Dyspneic
by TariElena
Summary: Narcissa's ailments have become more frequent and the Healers at St. Mungo's have yet to find a potion/spell to cure her. Desperate for a change, Draco and Lucius try an unorthodox treatment that Hermione learned about during her time away from the wizarding world. But will it be enough to save her?
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Harry Potter. He belongs to Queen Rowling. Enjoy the story!

Chapter 1

The Cat's Eye Pub would be a bizarre place to find a witch or wizard from Great Britain. That's because this dive bar operates in a historic muggle community known as Fell's Point in Maryland, USA. The pub's teal painted exterior and white-accent windows distinctly poke out amongst the rest of the attached buildings lining the cobblestone street. And with the "Best Live Music in Baltimore" resonating in a vintage building with 32 beer taps, it isn't difficult to understand what draws people to this type of establishment. Tonight in particular feigned the interest of five individuals, including one witch and one wizard both from Great Britain.

The patrons talked amongst themselves as a jazz band's sultry brass sounds mingled melodically with a woman's voice. At the bar top, people sat shoulder-to-shoulder and attempted to relay their drink requests to the multi-tasking bartenders; hoping to find that satisfying boozy elixir to start, continue, and end the night with. As the evening dragged on, boisterous groups of people congregated around tables littered across the floor.

"Ha! Just admit it," shouted a pint-sized woman with raven black hair. Her caramel eyes sparkled with unshed tears from laughing; her cheeks and abdominal muscles ached with each escaping breath. "You had no clue what you were doing! Your respiratory rate wa-"

"Hey!" A short balding man with jade green eyes interjected as his finger sliced through the air and drunkenly pointed across the table towards the woman. "You spoke medical jargon! Take a drink, Mia." After spending the past couple of hours drinking, his heavy eyelids were straining to remain open to bear witness to Mia completing her punishment for breaking the rules of their drinking game.

The rest of the group snickered in response to Mia's slipup as she pouted and stared apologetically at the other woman seated with the rowdy bunch. Mia stumbled towards the empty seat beside the woman and stared with puppy dog eyes, desperately trying to maintain the other woman's gaze. Mia sat beside her and leaned in close; she gently cupped the woman's face and said, "P-p-ppp-pplllease don't make me dwink anymore. I pwomise not to do it again."

The entire table burst out into a roar of laughter at Mia's pitiful attempt to speak with a baby voice. Once the laughter died down the other woman hushed the two men from making any comments and turned her attention towards Mia. Unblinking, the woman stared intently into Mia's face and said, "Quentin is right, Mia." After a long pause, she continued, "Youuuu-uuu brooo-ooke theee-ee ru-uules."

Hermione Granger sang that phrase over and over as she slowly slid a glass full of beer towards Mia's hands. "Remember," she cried as she turned to face the rest of the group with beer in hand, accidentally spilling a bit on Mia during her twirl around. "Oops! Ha! I'm sorry, Mia." Hermione grabbed some napkins and began to dab Mia's shirt. Satisfied that her shirt showed some improvement, Hermione continued. "Remember…. the moment any one of us utters medical terminology…we must drink a full glass of beer."

"Ugh! You know my layman's terms can be nonexistent when it comes to respir- I mean breathing stuff," complained a defeated Mia. She gave Hermione the stink eye as her body swayed back and forth on her stool; her bloodshot eyes blinking forcefully to refocus on the glass full of golden lager awaiting her consumption.

"Sweetheart, stop your griping and just drink it already," exclaimed a man with honey brown hair sitting to Hermione's right. Mia stuck her tongue out at him in response to his support in destroying her liver.

As for the wizard, thanks to Polyjuice Potion , he sat at the bar top observing the exchanges between the group of friends as he remained unnoticed by the crowd and Hermione. His prominent features were altered because he deemed them too noteworthy and he would stick out like a sore thumb in this type of establishment. He also made sure to discreetly position himself with his line of sight giving him the best advantage to monitor the group and eavesdrop with Extendable Ears. After several hours of witnessing their buildup to this inebriated state, the wizard began to feel restless. He didn't know what it was he was looking for tonight, or why he should have even bothered to come to America, but he knew there was a possibility that something would present itself to explain Hermione's presence here; more specifically her presence in this point in time. Taking a swig from his drink, he began to think about previous events that brought him here tonight, " _A muggle bar of all places,"_ he thought cynically.

From what he had gathered these past five years, Hermione left the wizarding world sometime after graduating Hogwarts. She moved to Scotland and attended St. Andrews before transferring to Johns Hopkin's University in America to train as a medical doctor.

" _And now the two magic folk are occupying the same bar on the same night at the same time_. _All because tonight marks the end of her training_ ," brooded the wizard as he gulped down his drink and gestured simultaneously to the barkeep to bring another one.

The ending of her time at Johns Hopkins also signified the conclusion of her residency in America. And the three individuals Hermione wanted to spend her last hours with were hospital staff that worked long grueling hours alongside her in the ICU. She referred to them as "my homies." The woman with black hair is what her profession refers to as a Respiratory therapist. The balding man is called a Nurse Practitioner named Quentin. And the one sitting beside Hermione is a Pulmonologist named Dawson.

From the outside looking in, one would consider that this wizard was obsessed with Hermione. That for the past years he may have dreamt up an unhealthy pseudo relationship with her resulting in his continuance of stalking her. However, this wizard does not necessarily spend his days preoccupied with thoughts on Hermione nor what her life consists of at all times. Instead she was nothing to him, and he was nothing to her. What puzzled and intrigued him most was how she acquired her education.

Working with people in the Ministry allowed this wizard to enter and exit the building whenever he wanted. One ordinary day he was walking out of a fireplace when a conversation amongst two Order members walking ahead of him caught his attention.

"…been a hell of a ride. She loves America, Hermione feels she is receiving proper training," Ron Weasley loudly whispered to his father.

"Ssshhhhh! Not now, we'll finish this later tonight," Arthur shushed his son as he glanced around to see if anyone looked to have the slightest interest on their conversation. After a few seconds, father and son parted ways not realizing that they piqued the interest of a determined wizard.

Gathering information on Hermione was a simple task for the wizard. He lives comfortably and has a superfluous amount of funds to buy his needs and needs to know. Upon learning Hermione relocated to Maryland and was calling herself a "medical doctor", he dug a little deeper to find out what exactly a doctor is. And what he discovered surprised him: Hermione Granger had completed a four-year degree in just two years. He knew she was considered "the brightest witch of her age", but this kind of accomplishment seemed unattainable from wizarding standards. After considering the possibilities, he developed a theory. And he found himself to be considering this theory over and over tonight.

" _No_ ," he thought as he shook his head and picked up his rocks glass to take a sip of the fiery amber liquid, _"there is no possible way she could have one. They were destroyed years ago."_

Hermione suddenly stood from her seat and gestured towards the girl with black hair to follow her. They made their way towards the restroom as the two men sat closer together to talk with one another without yelling.

"How weird is it going to be not having Hermione here, man? I mean it hasn't sunk in yet, but alcohol is playing a big factor on my emotions right now and I'm getting pretty sad, dude," Quentin stated as he leaned into Dawson's side. He tilted his head against Dawson's broad shoulder and sighed pitifully as he sipped on a bitten straw poking out of a glass half-filled with blue liquid.

Unexpectedly Dawson turned towards Quentin, grabbed his shoulders with both hands, and held him forcefully in front of him. "It's gonna be really hard for me once she's gone, Quentin," admitted Dawson.

His eyes revealed a mix of fear, worry, and desperation as his furrowed brows intensified his admission of… love? Like? Dawson couldn't tell for sure what his feelings truly meant. But what he did know was that he cared about Hermione deeply, and her absence would cause his particularly selective heart to ache from loneliness and lost chances. After several seconds of staring into each other's blood shot eyes, Dawson's face turned into one of conviction and determination. "I'm gonna tell her tonight, Quentin. I NEED to tell her how I feel before she goes, right?" His conviction quickly replaced with hopeful despair as he slowly released Quentin from his grasp and lowered himself back into his stool. He plopped his elbows on the table and hung his head into his hands; inhaling and exhaling deeply as he thought about how he was going to pull off persuading Hermione to stay behind…for him.

"Dawson, I honestly have no clue. I mean I know Hermione, but I really don't know her, ya know? I know she's fierce when it comes to her job and she is a blast to be around with when it comes to hanging out outside of work. But when it comes to analyzing the inner workings of that intelligent woman's brain then I'm in for a loop. You know she never has spoken about her past. I don't even want to bring it up in fear that it's something that it is a touchy topic," replied Quentin. He placed his hand against Dawson's rounded back and attempted to console his friend with a few pats.

Dawson stopped listening to his friend for a while, and twirled a toothpick absentmindedly around his mouth as Quentin rambled on about the what if's on Hermione's past, "Worst case scenario is that she's a drug lord…but she's changed her ways…she's like Mother freakin' Theresa now!"

"What about Mother Theresa," asked Mia as she sat down beside Dawson and waved the waitress to their table. "Whatever, I am tapping out guys. I think my limit was reached about 3 beers ago. I'm out for the count."

"Yeah, I'm done too. I'm not getting any younger so you know what that means?" Quentin smiled expectantly at the group as they all simultaneously rolled their eyes. "Because…. I ain't as good as I once was. But I'm as good as I eveeeerrrr waaaaas," sang Quentin as he stumbled ungracefully back into his chair and smiled proudly at the group. "I love me some Toby Keith."

"Oh we know, Quentin," assured Hermione. As the time passed, the group began to grow smaller. It was Mia who left first. She made sure to hug Hermione tightly and provide her with every means of communication she could possibly supply to her. "Take care, Hermione. I am not saying goodbye though! It is never goodbye because I know we will see each other again. It's in our stars," Mia stated happily as she glanced up towards the ceiling and smiled optimistically. Quentin was next to leave. He managed to get Hermione to succumb to singing at least a verse of a Toby Keith song before he left her with well wishes and promises to keep in touch.

"Are you heading out already," Hermione asked Dawson as she sipped her glass of water. Dawson didn't want to leave as long as Hermione wanted to stay. Secretly, she didn't want to leave as long as Dawson wanted to stay, but she would never admit that.

"In a bit. I was just…I mean I needed to…awe shit." Dawson felt his nerves getting the best of him. Hermione laughed and placed her hand over his.

"How bout we take one last shot and call it a night," Hermione suggested as she gestured towards the waitress to stop by the table. "Just for old times' sake." The waitress returned to the table and Hermione ordered two shots of chilled Patron silver tequila with a salted rim and limes.

"Woooo! Bringing out the big guns now, huh? I got you, girl." The waitress exclaimed as she made her way to and from the bar carrying the drinks on a tray.

Dawson and Hermione both grabbed the shot glasses simultaneously and raised them up, eye to eye. "To new beginnings," Hermione raised her glass and with glossy, wispful eyes as she stared intently at Dawson.

"To new beginnings," Dawson repeated sensing that surge of courage escalating into impulsiveness. They clinked glasses and exclaimed "Cheers!" Guzzling down the smooth, yet intensely warm, drink.

"Here it goes," Dawson whispered to himself. Turning his squeaky stool towards Hermione, Dawson took a hold of her hands. He couldn't look up at her just yet. He didn't trust his eyes to tell a different story of what he claimed. He began to speak as he fiddled with Hermione's fingers in his own. "Hermione, I really enjoyed having you as a colleague. From the moment you made your presence known on our first day of orientation up until now, I can honestly say that I will never forget you." Dawson looked up at that moment and stared into Hermione's teary-eyed expression. With the tequila providing that liquid courage, he continued with his admission of having feelings for the brown-haired woman. "One reason has to do with my transition from Cardiology to Pulmonology. This was something a lot of people discouraged me from doing, but you supported me. You believed in me. Again, thank you for that. And even though you are leaving I want you to know that I will always be there for you. You have made an impact on my life and I cannot imagine you not continuing to be a part of it."

"Oh Dawson, I-"

"No, no. Please let me finish," Dawson interjected before he felt his bravery diminish. He inhaled deeply and counted to ten as he shut his eyes and willed himself to continue with what needed to be said. He contemplated for a second on how he could express himself. His emotions fighting a constant battle on what sounds right and what sounds meaningless. Finally, he opened his eyes said, "I adore you, Hermione. I have for a long time already. I really don't want you to go. I want you to change your mind about leaving and stay here. Stay here with me. I know we could make each other happy. I can make you happy."

Hermione looked away from Dawson and placed her hands on her lap. Seconds ticked away and Dawson awkwardly positioned himself on the stool as he expectantly looked at Hermione to say something. Anything.

" _Oh god! What have I done?!"_ His eyes began to bulge after he contemplated the magnitude of his statement. And as a minute of silence passed between them, it dawned on Dawson what her answer was going to be.

" _She's gonna say no."_

Suddenly, Hermione swiped at a tear, cleared her throat, and looked up at Dawson with rosy cheeks, glistening eyes, and a heavy heart. "My dear Dawson," Hermione assured him as she brought her hand to gently stroke Dawson's cheek. "I am so fortunate to have you in my life. I never considered that this life would bring me someone like you. You're compassionate, humble, fiercely loyal, handsome, and full of integrity." Hermione cleared her throat and brought her hands to her lap. She looked down at her fingers fidgeting as she attempted to compose herself and build up the courage to admit to something. Something that she has kept to herself for a long, long time. Something that only very few people know back home. Hermione inhaled and exhaled a long deep breath. She looked up into Dawson's eyes and smiled. "These past years in America were some of the best years of my life. And it's because of you, Dawson. Earlier Mia mentioned that our paths would continue to cross because it's written in the stars. I never was interested in astrology or divination; honestly I think it's all rubbish. But if I were to believe in something of that nature, then I would agree that we are meant to continue crossing paths. This I am sure of."

Hermione grasped Dawson's hands into her own and rubbed her thumbs against the dorsum of his hand. "I would stay in America. And I want to say that I can see us being happy together." A croak escaped Hermione's voice as she thought of the "what ifs" had the circumstances been different. "If only I didn't have an obligation to the Ministry of Magic," she thought resentfully. "But it's just not written in our stars right now, Dawson. I have to go back to London. I'm expected to return."

"Ministry of what? Whatever…but do you want to go? Have you thought about what you want or what you need in order to be happy? What's so important in London that you have to leave immediately, anyway?" Exhausted with revealing his true feelings to someone he felt would offer their own in return, Dawson pulled at his hair and rubbed his hands through his face. "Hermione, I am here. I want this and it sounds like you want this, too."

"You barely even know me," Hermione countered as she tried to dissuade Dawson into continuing his pursuance of her.

"Yeah, but what I do know about you is that you're devoted, empathetic, beautiful, a damn near genius, and one of the best people I know. And besides you won't tell me anything else about you. I only know what you allow me to know. How is it fair to accuse me of not knowing anything about you when you won't even allow me the chance?"

Hermione's phone dinged, signaling the arrival of her Uber driver at the front of the bar. "Dawson, I care deeply about you. I always will. I couldn't have done any of this without you. But…I can't give you what you want. All I can offer is my friendship." Defeated, Hermione pleaded with tear-streaked cheeks and red swollen eyes to salvage whatever relationship would be left after her rejection of his affection.

Frustrated with how this conversation ended but relieved that the outcome resulted in a continuance of friendship, Dawson picked up Hermione's hand and brought it to his lips. With a gentle kiss Dawson replied, "I will always be there for you, Hermione. You can always count on me."

Dawson continued to hold onto Hermione's hand as he escorted her outside towards the Uber ride. Once they reached the vehicle they turned towards each other, eyes locked, and only the heat of their deep breathing filling the space between them.

"Well I guess this is it."

"I suppose so," agreed Hermione. Now what happened next overwhelmed not only Dawson, but Hermione, as well. She didn't know what made her do it, maybe it was that last shot of tequila, but she felt she owed it to Dawson. Especially since this may be one of the last times she would see him.

"Dawson," she paused for a second, allowing herself to second guess her actions. She went ahead and continued with her confession, just to see where her cards would fall. "I'm a witch. And I don't mean it in the sense that I'm a pagan and all that other nonsense. What I mean is that I'm an actual witch that works with wands, spells, and potions. I have been on a mission with the Ministry of Magic since I graduated from Hogwarts, the school where I learned about magic. I am required now to return home to discuss my findings with the people who sent me here to learn about muggle medical advancement and how we could intertwine our two cultures to improve the quality of care for the wizarding community." Hermione blurted out. She didn't understand how her word vomit could have helped the situation with Dawson, but deep down inside she felt he had to know the truth.

With a newfound rush of courage, Hermione reached up onto her tiptoes and placed her lips urgently against Dawson's. He instinctively embraced her into his arms and met her passion with an equally vigorous kiss. A fieriness rose into his chest and intensified as this public display of affection prolonged. Reluctantly, Hermione pushed Dawson away and climbed into the backseat of her Uber.

"A witch?" Dawson asked as she closed the door behind her and began to lower her window. With a radiant smile and glittery eyes, Hermione reached out for Dawson's hand one last time and held it in hers; memorizing the warmth of his smooth skin and how her fingers comfortably intertwined with his.

"I'll see you around, Dawson McKinney." And with those parting words, Hermione released his grasp and told the driver that she was ready to leave, looking into Dawson's eyes the entire time. As she pulled away, Dawson continued to watch her pull away until she turned at the first streetlight and was out of sight. He turned back into the bar and accidently ran into a man's shoulder as he was leaving the bar.

"Sorry, ma-," Dawson replied as he looked up to offer his apologies. But what Dawson saw next was something that made his stomach churn. The man's features were contorting into what could only be described as nodules bubbling under his skin.

"Sir! Are you okay? I'm a doctor-," Dawson offered genuinely as he began to triage the man.

"I'm fine!" The man yelled as he pushed Dawson away and began to run into the street. The man's hair suddenly began to streak into white platinum blonde and Dawson blinked his eyes in disbelief.

" _Maybe I shouldn't have had that last tequila shot_ ," Dawson thought as he noticed the man running straight into the harbor.

"Sir! Stop! Please, STOP!" Dawson ran towards the man as he began to climb over the guardrail. But by the time Dawson reached the rails the man had already jumped. With adrenaline rushing through his veins, Dawson didn't notice that a popping sound replaced what should have been a splash of water. He peered over into the harbor and searched frantically for any signs of the man. But the dark choppy waters disguised whatever was floating down in the cold murky waters. Dawson frantically pulled out his cellphone and began to call 911.

"What a night, " replied a flabbergasted Dawson as the dispatcher questioned his emergency.

Thousands of miles away, the wizard apparated back to his ornately decorated room and reveled in feeling the enchantments surrounding his home as he walked towards his full-length mirror. He welcomed the changes to his face as he observed the last signs of his disguise disappear. He gazed lovingly at himself once his familiar features began to take form. He offered himself a self-assured smile as he thought about all that he had heard and witnessed tonight.

"So the Ministry knows about Hermione. And they are implementing a muggle-wizard type of healthcare system, it seems." The wizard began to remove his clothing and change into his pajamas when he considered the impact of this progressive movement. With a flick of his wand, he removed the excess pillows on his side of the bed and pulled back the black satin sheets. His wife, sleeping soundly to his side, didn't stir as he made himself comfortable in the king-size bed. The wizard ever so carefully placed a gentle kiss to her temple and turned over to pretend to be lost in dreams.

Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is always welcome. -A


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Wingardium leviosa!"

With a swish and flick of her wand, Hermione levitated her large bulky furniture into an ornately beaded handbag. Her tables and chairs danced overhead towards their destination, shrinking and conforming to the narrow opening of the charmed purple bag. " _It's bigger on the inside_ ," she thought with a small grin as she flicked her wrist once more to tighten the strings. She stuck her wand into her back pocket and walked across the living room, taking her time to memorize the sounds that she had overlooked during her stay: the echo of her boots clonking against the hardwood floors, the grunt of her ancient window unit spewing cool air, and the hum of her ceiling fan whirling in a blur. She switched off the unit and walked back to the other side to turn off her ceiling fan. She allowed herself a few more seconds to scan the room, making sure that nothing important was left behind and flipped the switch to off. "Mischief managed," she whispered, saying goodbye to her muggle home.

For the past ten years, Hermione lived conveniently near Johns Hopkins in a one bedroom one bath apartment. Pale hickory wood floors lined her humble abode and intercepted with egg-white baseboard moldings and light blue walls. She made her way into the kitchen and stood beside her island, wiping the speckled granite countertop with her hand, dropping whatever crumbs lay across the surface. The espresso cabinets, once filled with mismatched dishes and glasses, were now hollow; her refrigerator humming with indifference to its own empty cavity. With a weary sigh, she leaned her elbows against her countertop and buried her face into her hands. Anxiety riddled her body as she thought about leaving her normal existence of Dr. Hermione Granger and transitioning back to Harry Potter's best friend. The muggle-born. The mudblood.

" _It won't be like that anymore. I'm sure everything is different now_ ," she hoped as she tried to envision what the wizarding world was like. She left twelve years ago and hasn't been back since. The main reason is because no one is supposed to know of her whereabouts other than Ron, Harry, McGonagall, and the Minister of Magic. However, Ron accidentally spilled the beans to his dad when they were out tinkering with muggle devices and having a couple of beers. This mistake resulted in Hermione obtaining a Secret Keeper to avoid another similar event.

"All this trouble just to keep such a dainty piece of jewelry secret," she joked as she rummaged under her shirt to pull out a golden chain. She kept it on at all times and only revealed it in the privacy of her home. She wanted to avoid any questions or curiosities about this unique piece, especially since it has what is considered a fashionable charm for muggle standards. Two golden rings encircle a golden medallion with a minuscule hour glass set in the middle. Along the outer rim of the two rings read an inscription that Hermione memorized by heart.

"I mark the hours, every one, Nor have I yet outrun the Sun. My use and value, unto you, Are gauged by what you have to do," she read out loud.

This Time-Turner looked exactly the same as the one she used many years ago to complete her courses at Hogwarts. After the battle it was decided by the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebot, that all Time-Turners be confiscated and destroyed from existence to prevent anyone from returning to the past and intervening in Voldemort's death. Yet, he decided to keep one locked away in the Ministry; that is until Hermione suggested to put it to good use.

Thanks to the overwhelming support of Hermione's friends and former professor, Kingsley determined that she was a person of integrity and intelligence. He trusted her and allowed her to use the coveted device for only 15 years or until she acquired the proper training required to institute the program she had proposed to him. The only drawbacks were that Hermione would only be able to communicate through the post to her friends so as to avoid drawing attention to herself in the muggle community. She was also not allowed to return to the wizarding community unless the Minister and two competent Aurors escorted her back into wizarding London. Reluctantly, Hermione agreed to the deal thus beginning the journey into her muggle higher learning.

Her first two years as a muggle student were spent at St. Andrew's University in Scotland. With a little help from charmed magic parchments, Hermione was able to deceptively apply and gain acceptance into a prestigious muggle university. She spent her two years obtaining her undergraduate degree; the Time-Turner and a few spells allowed her the luxury of completing credits within a timeframe that only a superhuman could achieve without being noticed by fellow students and professors. She then moved to America and spent the next three years in medical school at Johns Hopkins University. The last seven years consisted of her residency and fellowship at Johns Hopkins. During these last crucial years, she knew that the Time-Turner was not going to be a great asset during this part of her education, but she kept it in her possession anyway for safe keeping. In her opinion, it was safer in muggle America than wizarding London.

Throughout her time in Scotland and the first three years in America, Hermione never really had a life outside of school and so she didn't know too many people that she would consider a friend. That began to change one night at the hospital when Hermione was sleeping in the on-call room. On a metal extra-large twin bed, Hermione slept soundly, relishing the tranquility of her dreamless sleep and the fact that she was able to rest during her chaotic ICU shifts. Unfortunately, her dreamless sleep warped into visions of Ron sprawled across a debris ridden stone ground; a mocking smile etched onto his face with deadened eyes staring back at her, similar to the scene of Fred's demise. Then, her nightmare distorted into an unbearable scene where Harry succumbed to his death the night he sacrificed himself to save the wizarding world from Voldemort's insane beliefs. His limp body was hanging from Hagrid's careful hold as Voldemort's cackle echoed throughout the grounds of a beaten castle.

It began in her abdomen, an accumulation of her agonizing frustrations due to her inability to escape her nightmare, and then exploded from her throat; a vibrato of high pitches piercing the eardrums of those nearby. It hadn't registered to her that she belted out a blood-curdling scream. It was when she inhaled and couldn't fully expand her chest with fresh air that she noticed she had yelled. She tried again to inhale copious amounts of air, but failed once more. She bunched her white sheets onto her heaving chest, white knuckles exposing a death grip as she held them in her hands over her sternum. She willed her rib cage to rise and fall in a normal manner; she had only woke up hyperventilating twice before this episode, and she was embarrassed to learn that she attracted the attention of her colleague.

Dawson was asleep in the room beside hers when he was startled into alertness. Frantic, he ran into the room beside his, expecting to find a shocking gruesome scene that would rival those fabricated by eccentric horror movies. Instead, he found himself looking at a hysterical Hermione Granger sobbing and gasping for air while sitting on top of her bed. Her eyes, widened with worry and torment, followed Dawson's swift move towards her. He sat himself in front of her and looked straight into her wide eyes and began to speak calmly.

"Dr. Granger, I want you to listen to me and do everything that I say." Dawson's silvery tone revealed an assertive, low, rustic drawl; his Southern accent prominent with each word spoken. He propped an extra pillow behind her back, positioning her semi-fowler's for comfort, and kept his eyes on hers. "I want you to place your right hand on your abdomen and leave your left hand over your chest." Dawson modeled the movements and Hermione followed immediately. "Good, now take a nice deep breath in through your nose. Feel your stomach expand with your inhalation; a nice deep long breath. Now exhale through pursed lips while gently pushing into your abdomen. You're okay, just take slow deep breaths int through you nose 1-2-3...and out through your mouth 1-2-3-4-5." Dawson continued to breathe alongside Hermione and stayed with her until it was under control. He even went so far as to stay with her until she fell back asleep; much to Hermione's dismay. And he stayed with her long after she had fallen asleep.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione didn't hear a man in billowing navy robes walk out of her fireplace with green flames licking at his heels. He was searching around the house to find the witch he was sent to return back to England when his boot landed on a wood plank, revealing his presence with a loud long creak. Spinning on her heels, Hermione pulled out her wand and yelled, "Petrificus totalus," simultaneously with the wizard as he yelled, "Protego!"

A blazing white light rebounded from the wizard's invisible shield and disintegrated into fiery embers, disappearing before touching the floor. "Bloody hell, 'Mione! What was that for?!" Holding out his wand in a defensive stance, Ron Weasley's furrowed eyebrows and incredulous expression prompted her to abort her fight or flight options. She relaxed her stance immediately and smiled from ear to ear.

"Ron!" Hermione pocketed her wand and ran towards her best friend, enveloping him in a tight, long overdue, embrace. "I missed you so much. How's Padma and the baby? Isn't her due date coming up already? And why the secrecy on the gender? Why don't you want to know before the birth? It'll make it so m-,"

"Hey! Slow down a bit. Let me get my bearings straight," Ron laughed as he pulled himself apart from Hermione's bear hug and took a deep breath. Towering over his petite friend, Ron looked down and returned the beaming smile Hermione had plastered on her face.

"It's so good to see you, 'Mione. It's been what? A year since we last saw each other? Hell, it feels even longer than that. Good thing I learned how to properly send muggle post. Otherwise it would have been impossible to keep in touch. And Padma is doing well; she says hi and sends her love. She is twenty-eight weeks

now. And like I told you before, we want to be surprised on the gender."

Ron smiled as he informed his friend on everything that was going on in his life. Keeping his hold on her, Hermione noticed his lanky body filled out into a broad sturdy build; his pale features accentuating his long pointy nose and chiseled chin. " _He looks good,_ " she thought happily. She noticed he was wearing long thin blue robes issued to Aurors in high positions at the Ministry.

Hermione gestured for him to take a seat on one of the bar stools at the island. "What a happy surprise! I had no idea that you would be one of the Aurors to escort me back to London. They just told me two Aurors were going to meet me here and take me back once Kingsley arrived."

"Honestly, I had no idea that I was coming to your apartment. I was with Harry and Kingsley at the Ministry when I was given this mission. The envelope just had an address and nothing else. Apparently, this assignment that you're on is highly confidential. I only know what Kingsley tells me and Harry has never spoke to me about your mission in public, only when we are in his or Kingsley's office. Dad says there have been people trying to find you and figure out where you've vanished to. In fact, Witch Weekly posted an article with theories of your whereabouts. My favorite one was that you are in Amsterdam and have a career as a dominatrix in the Red Light District."

"Really!? How odd." Hermione laughed out loud. She struggled to come up with a legitimate idea as to why people would want to remain updated on her life. She never understood the public's fascination with her. The last time she knew of a Witch Weekly article publishing anything about her was when Ron and her decided to end their romantic relationship.

It was after that infamous battle. Ron and Hermione had decided to spend a month grieving for the people that lost their lives during the pursuit of peace. They consoled each other as friends and as new awkward, yet comfortable lovers. Fortunately, being close mates for so many years gave them an advantage on how to gauge each other's reactions to good and bad situations, as well as how to calm each other down. Eventually, living became a little easier and the need to console one another was no longer necessary. They soon brought up the subject of what they wanted out of their lives; that compulsive feeling of guilt for having the chance to plan a future wasn't as prominent anymore. They discussed their expectations with this new relationship and where they felt it should lead them. Ron volunteered to go first. He talked about traveling to a sunny, warm, and tropical island and staying there for a year to relax and rehabilitate their minds and bodies. Eventually he would want to propose and marry Hermione in a small quaint ceremony surrounded by their loved ones.

"I would become an Auror once we returned from the island, Hermione. I've decided to speak with Kingsley about it on Monday. Harry too! We could start a family after that and raise them with Harry and Ginny's lot. Just imagine it! I can give you whatever you need. I can give our family whatever we need. I will provide for us, protect us, and love us fiercely. That's what I want." Ron's face glowed with prideful resolution and beamed with delight as he began to envision Hermione and him raising two children, one red hair and the other with mousy brown.

Hermione smiled and teared up after hearing Ron's expectations of their relationship and the amount of love and loyalty he had towards their theoretical family. But with an agonized heart, she knew she had to bring him out of his perfect reverie. And it wasn't because she didn't love everything that Ron planned for them. In fact, she felt that it was beautiful and perfect.

Hermione cleared her throat and braced herself for Ron's reaction. "Everything you just said sounds utterly brilliant and magnificently wonderful, Ron. It is everything that anyone could ever want." Ron's face lit up with joy as Hermione offered him a timid smile. Grabbing his hands and looking into them, Hermione continued.

"But I want more," she whispered with a catch in her throat.

Ron quizzically looked up at his girlfriend. "Of course, tell me what you want."

She knew what she had to tell him, and her heart ached with a pressure that seemed to tighten her chest and lungs the longer she tried to find the courage to confess her ambitions. After a couple of seconds, she made herself speak her mind. "After Fred's passing…" Hermione stopped for a second. Her throat began to constrict and her stomach tightened with grief as she tried to continue her statement. Her face contorted in agony for a moment and registered back to a frown as she kept the tears at bay. She continued, "I knew that enough was enough." She removed her hands from Ron's and wiped away a rogue tear that rolled down her cheek. Ron instinctively reached for her hand and kissed her fingers with a soft gentle peck, assuring her that it was okay to say what she needed to say. "Go ahead, 'Mione."

She looked up and stared appreciatively into his encouraging piercing blue eyes. "I remember looking at Fred's lifeless body, that morbid smile etched into his rigid face, as if trying to psyche us into thinking that he was okay. That he was just about to snap out of it and make us laugh. And…and I began to think, 'Isn't there anything else we could do? He was just here…there MUST be something we could do!' His death was unnecessary and I strongly feel that it could have been treated. He was a wonderful, funny, charming man and he didn't deserve to die."

Mutinous tears escaped Hermione's tightly shut eyes and she took a deep breath to compose herself before continuing. "And then we found out about Colin, Tonks and Lupin…and that solidified my decision. I want to improve and become progressive with our methods in healing witches and wizards after being hit with the Killing Curse. I can't handle losing anyone else that I love to that horrible spell; it will break me. I want to finish Hogwarts and then go into muggle society to become a medical doctor. And I want you to come with me." She rushed that last statement, confessing in a jumble of words. She gave Ron a moment to process everything she just said. She knew what he wanted and she could not see herself embarking on his new adventure, no matter how lovely it sounded. He released her hands and gazed down into his lap. Not wanting to lose his support Hermione pleaded, "I know it might not be ideal, especially after everything we have experienced, but this is something I need to do. This is something that can better both of us."

Ron remained quiet and didn't look at Hermione for several minutes. He thought about all she said and contemplated how her life would complement his own future. He thought about how his life would be if he were to tag along with Hermione on her quest to become a muggle professional. He did not want to be her second priority, and that is exactly what he would become if he followed on her path. He knew he would support her, but he wouldn't join her. Admitting that to himself brought bile up through his esophagus and he had to swallow forcefully into his throat to settle it back down.

He looked up into her sorry puffy brown eyes. Her crying reddened her nose and she began to hiccup intermittently between sobs. He dreaded what he was about to say next. "I can't go with you, 'Mione. I can't and won't allow myself to be your second priority. This dream that you have for yourself sounds big, and wonderful, and I think that you should do it. Don't let me drag you down or keep you from what you really want to do. This is something that I can't do with you, but I will always support you." Ron hoped for her understanding as he witnessed Hermione's face crumple into heartbreak and defeat.

He grasped her by the shoulders and brought her body into his own. She placed her head against his chest, his hands rubbing her back to comfort her. She could hear the rapid beating of his heart and his firm sculpted chest rise up and down with each breath. "I know you more than I probably know myself, Hermione. And I believe you can do better on your own. I love you, and if we had more time together then I could see us falling in love. But right now we want two different things and we care too much about each other to rob ourselves of the opportunity to find out who we truly are. We are more than just two thirds of the 'Golden Trio.' We are and will always be family. And if time and luck allows it, maybe we will find that our stars have aligned." They spent the rest of the night on the sofa, consoling and cuddling one another for the last time. The very next day Ron and Hermione announced to the family that they ended their relationship amicably and decided to remain friends. The sound of flames flaring out of a fireplace snapped Hermione out of her reverie and brought her back to her apartment with Ron sitting at her island.

"Oy!? Hermione! Where are you?" Yelled an all too familiar male voice. A creaky floorboard announced his presence as he made his way into the kitchen.

"Harry?!" Hermione yelled curiously, yet elated with the prospect that her other best friend was in her presence. She jumped off her stool, dropping it onto the floor with a loud bang, and made her way towards him. His unruly black hair fell over his left eye, right above his circular framed glasses while he flashed a toothy grin at the sight of her. He wore the same navy robes as Ron, but Harry had an embroidered white snow owl on his left sleeve. Hermione inhaled his scent the moment she buried her face into his robes. He smelled of chimney soot mixed with musky cologne as she took him into her arms.

"I missed you, Harry." Hermione replied, her voice muffled by his robes.

"I missed you, too. It's been too long. Glad to see you're here too, Ron." Harry nodded his head towards his partner.

Another burst of fiery green flames escaped the fireplace as Minister Shacklebot stepped out. His midnight black robes matched his signature kufi that he wore atop of his head. As he strode towards Hermione and Harry, he smiled genuinely in response to their attention. "Ms. Granger, it is always a pleasure to see you. And I'm sure it's a relief to know that you have completed your studies here in America."

Kingsley Shacklebot held out his hand once Hermione released Harry. She stepped forward and smiled warmly at the Minister of Magic. His towering presence and stoic posture emitted elitism and superiority, but his friends and close coworkers knew better. The minister maintained a cool and calm demeanor even in the toughest of situations; and combined with his smooth monotone voice, people were given the impression that he was a gentle giant that could be trusted.

"Minister, it is really great to see you, too. I can't thank you enough for allowing me to start and complete this assignment. I truly feel once we implement this program our capabilities in sustaining life will have a greater advantage in saving lives from the Killing Curse."

"I do not doubt it, Ms. Granger. Now, we must leave soon. The wards will no longer hold once it is 1200 and it is already ten 'til. I suggest we make haste and take the Floo Network to Hogwarts. I have already ensured that this passage is secured and untraceable. We cannot take any chances, especially not right now. People have recently become interested in your whereabouts, Ms. Granger."

"I know. Ron told me about the article in Witch Weekly. I just don't understand the sudden interest in me after all these years. But that's beside the point right now. We should go," Hermione stated as she made her way towards the fireplace along with the other wizards.

Minister Shacklebot reached into his robes and pulled out a handful of grayish powder. He flung it into the fireplace as blue flames roared to life. "Hogwarts, Headmistress McGonagall's office," enunciated the minister as he walked into the blazing inferno.

McGonagall's office resembled Dumbledore's only in the way that his books and paintings of past Headmasters and Headmistresses continued to inhabit the walls. Her décor consisted of modern industrialized wood and galvanized metals. At the foot of her large rectangular table lay a black cat sleeping soundly on top of a pile of cream sheets and linens. The Headmistress was seated behind her desk as the witch and wizards entered the room. Her distinguishable features remained prominent years after the trio left Hogwarts: pointed hat, tightened bun, black robes, and a spectacled countenance. She smiled affectionately at her former students and fellow Order Member. Since the Battle of Hogwarts, the surviving Order Members rarely had a reason to see each other, especially now that wizarding society lacks the presence of homicidal maniacs with fetishes for killing muggleborn witches and wizards.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, everyone. It is really so good to see you all." The headmistress rose from her chair and made her way to the group. She hugged her former students in a loving embrace, spending a minute or two with each one, catching up with what was going on with their lives. When McGonagall made her way towards Shacklebot, they kissed one another on each cheek and hugged for a little longer. They talked for a few seconds and promised each other to keep in touch very soon.

"Now I hate to cut short our introductions but we must get going," McGonagall stated decisively. "There is no one in the castle other than the house elves and so this is our only chance. I have only done this once before and that was when the Sorcerer's stone was here. Back then I was hesitant with having Hagrid know what was hidden, but Dumbledore trusted him so I reluctantly dropped the subject of his dependability. This time around I feel we have better chances of keeping it hidden."

"I agree," replied Kingsley. "Where is it, Hermione?"

Hermione reached into her shirt and pulled out her Time-Turner, running her fingers over the engraving one last time. She had become partial to the necklace capable of time travel, but she knew what was needed to be done. With a heavy heart she dropped the necklace into Kingsley's outstretched hand and parted ways with it.

Talking amongst themselves, they walked out the door and it slowly shut on its own accord; the clicking of the lock signaling their departure. With no one left to eavesdrop on, the inhabitants of the portraits turned their attention back to their daily routine of sleeping soundly against their frames and walking in and out of portraits throughout the castle.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries implemented the perfect façade to elude exposure in muggle London. The red-bricked dilapidated department store, known as Purge & Dowse, Ltd., is a resourceful disguise since it avoids unnecessary attention from the original hospital and it is a large enough building to house the hospital's unorthodox wards and patients. Gaining entrance into St. Mungo's is similar to how platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross Station works; all that is required of the person is to step in through a window. However, there is an alternate route and Hermione is one of the few people who prefers this route: asking a mannequin located inside the building to allow her admission into the hospital.

For the past five months, Hermione has been training as a Mediwizard at St. Mungo's. Every week, Monday through Friday, Hermione apparates in the alley behind the condemned department store around five forty-five in the morning and makes her way through the usual curves and corners until she comes across a naked, inanimate, mannequin.

"Good morning! How do you do?" Hermione nodded her head, acknowledging the unclothed figure in front of her. "We really need to stop meeting like this. People will start talking and I'm only barely coming to terms with the fact that you are an exhibitionist!" She snickered at her own one-sided conversation and then positioned herself to the right of the mannequin. "May I please be allowed inside St. Mungo's?" She then walked forward four steps and a blinding blue light passed before her eyes, signaling that she gained access to the ground floor level of the wizard hospital.

A Welcome Witch greets her with a genuine smile and, having noticed her lime green robes, welcomes Hermione back into the hospital. "So great to see you again, Healer Granger. I hope you have a wonderful day."

"Thank you, Greta. You, as well." Hermione smiled back and made her way through the halls towards the elevators to get to her floor.

As she walked further into the hospital, passing rooms that housed ill patients, moans and sporadic screams followed behind her. The first floor contained those affected with Artefact Accidents. These witches and wizards experienced accidents dealing with cauldron explosions and wands backfiring. _"Ron would have been placed here if his slug vomiting hadn't been under control_ ," she always thought as she passed the ward, finally reaching the elevator doors. She stepped inside and pressed a button to take her to the fourth floor, Spell Damage.

Arriving an hour before the start of the first shift, she exited onto her floor and was immediately met with chatter buzzing all around her. The night shift Healers were passing report to the day shift Healers so conversations were happening around every corner. Hermione walked towards the break room to find some coffee and hopefully a donut. Bitter and sweet were her favorite combination of flavors in the morning. She felt that probably had to do with the fact that she loved black coffee and glazed donuts.

" _And why not start the morning with something that you love,"_ she thought happily as she lifted the lid to a box and found three rows of warm, fresh, aromatic, donuts.

"Hey Hermione! How's it going?" A Mediwizard barged into the break room and yawned out his question as he plopped down on a chair and hoisted his big feet on top of the communal table. His name was Michael Corner and he worked the night shift at St. Mungo's. His thick, dark, shaggy hair was tied back in a half bun, bringing out the bags under his warm hazel eyes. His robes were wrinkled and stained with an assortment of colors made from who knows what. Hermione thought she saw a hole burned into his backside.

"Was it an eventful night?" She asked as she bit into her donut.

"You could say that. You know we always get the crazies during my time on the floor. But I love it! The suspense of the unknown is what gets me going." Michael exclaimed standing up and making his way towards the counter to fix himself a cup of coffee and grab a donut.

"You're nuts! I would be a wreck and a zombie if I worked your hours. I don't know how you do it, Michael. I couldn't manage," Hermione confessed.

Michael shrugged, "You get used to it. But you know what?! After this shift I am out for the next two and a half weeks! It's about time you came into my life, Hermione, because now I can take a real vacation. And perfect timing, too, since this is the day that there is going to be a meeting about a patient staying here in the hospital. Apparently this case is now bringing in people from all departments. I'm not familiar with it, but I hear the patient is a V.I.P. Fortunately I'm excused from this mandatory meeting since I'll be gone for the next couple of weeks." He smiled from ear to ear.

"Interesting," she thought out loud. "I wonder who the wizard or witch is? What floor have they been on?" Hermione stared into nothingness, envisioning the rarest of diagnoses and wondering how she would go about treating them.

"Second floor, Magical bugs and Diseases. I can only assume it has to do with diseases because Magical Bugs hardly ever have any good cases," Michael answered. He brushed off his robes and made his way out the door to return to his post. "I have thirty more minutes and then I'm free," he grinned as he glanced down at his watch. "See you in two weeks, Hermione. Have fun at the meeting."

Several hours later, Hermione found herself sitting in the back of a room filled with thirty people talking amongst themselves. Chairs were lined up in rows and faced a small stage with a single podium placed in the middle of it. People could be heard exchanging theories with one another as they all tried to rationalize who the mystery patient is. She overheard two senior witches talking beside her and Hermione decided to eavesdrop on them.

"It has to be Minerva. You know I spoke with her through the Floo Network about two months ago and she looked wretched. She seemed edgy and a bit pale. She adamantly refused anything was wrong with her, though. Being Headmistress and all, I'm sure the stress that comes along with it must have finally caught up with her."

" _I highly doubt it's Professor McGonagall,"_ Hermione thought as she rolled her eyes at the Healer's accusations.

"No, I don't believe it's Minerva," replied the other aging witch. "I saw her personally two weeks ago and she never looked better. You can't always rely on the Floo Network when you're looking for signs of illness, Agora. Now, don't go around telling everyone but I heard that it's a Malfoy." The witch named Agora stared back with wide curious eyes in response to her friend's confession.

"Where did you hear that, Martha?" Agora leaned in closer to her confidant, and Hermione felt her body sway towards their direction as well.

Martha whispered to her friend, "You know Bob, the guy on the second floor who cleans the rooms once a patient has been discharged? Well he said that he was in a room about a month ago when he overheard the Head Mediwizard talking outside the door about 'this Malfoy case' being 'too complicated'. He told me this yesterday morning when we were in the cafeteria. I don't see why he would lie about this, either. I mean why would he?"

"A Malfoy?! Well, no wonder they need so many Healers here in this meeting. You would think that we didn't have other people to help save," Agora commented with a snarky tone.

Hermione felt herself agree with the wizard, and instinctively placed her hand over the scar on her forearm. Just then the door to the conference room swung open. The Head Mediwizard entered the room and made her way towards the podium. She raised her wand towards her throat and a warm white light began glowing at the tip. She cleared her throat, the sound filling the entire room, signaling to the crowd that she was prepared to speak.

"Thank you, everyone, for sharing your time with me. I appreciate you joining me in this last minute meeting. I know we are all very busy so I will get right down to business." She waved her wand around the room and envelopes folded into planes soared towards each person and floated above their heads. Hermione plucked the levitating papers out of the air and unfolded the parchments.

"In your hands you will find the case study of a woman who shall remain anonymous for now. She is married and has a child that was born in this hospital. Other than that single admittance, she was brought here five years ago with complaints of having difficulty breathing. According to her it came all of a sudden while she was getting ready in the morning. Her family brought her in once they figured out their home remedies would not work. She received the Spiritus Elixir upon arrival and was cured instantly. She returned home that day and didn't have another episode until a year later. Now these bouts of breathlessness are returning more frequently. This year alone she has been admitted eight times and is now being treated with the same elixir as well as other spells and potions. However, everything we give her is only briefly managing her symptoms now. She has been staying in the hospital for the past month at the request of the family and the patient. She has been requiring immediate treatment and so it was necessary to keep her here until her symptoms have been managed appropriately. Now, it has come to my attention, and of those competent Mediwizards whom have been treating this patient since day one, that help is going to be needed elsewhere. The spells and elixirs used to treat this patient have been listed in the documents you have received. I am asking that you all please provide your valued input once you reviewed the case on your own. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this issue. Thank you for your time." Her wand's light dimmed as she lowered it to her side. With a small smile and a nod of her head, she walked off the podium and left the room with a small entourage.

The room immediately roared to life once the door closed behind her. Papers were being rustled, passing from hand to hand as people tried to absorb and make sense of the information provided to them. You could tell these brilliant minds were churning ideas around and around, shaking their heads with dismay as they shut down the bad ones. Hermione was scanning through her paperwork, trying to read into the what the information was telling her about the patient. She kept finding herself focusing in on the symptoms and couldn't help but feel her muggle mind takeover. Suddenly, she got up from her seat and followed after the Head Mediwizard.

"Excuse me, Healer Hope! Excuse me!" Hermione took off at a run to catch up to the witch. She slowed her steps once she caught up and tapped the witch's shoulder. "Healer Hope, may I please have a word with you?" Breathing heavily and sweating a bit, Hermione attempted to straighten herself out as the witch turned towards her.

"I'm sorry, Healer Hope. I know you're needed elsewhere and so I was just wanting to catch you before you left the premises. I was hoping to have a quick word with you about this case."

The Head Healer raised a single, questioning eyebrow towards her as she leaned into a wizard whispering furiously into her ear. She pursed her lips and kept her eyebrow arched. Hermione instinctively brushed off her robes, feeling the Head Healer scrutinizing her appearance.

"Thought of something already, Healer Granger? Do keep up!" With a turn of her heel, the witch continued forward with her entourage, Hermione following behind. "So tell me, what does a muggle doctor, that has only trained as a Healer for five months, think should be done to help the patient? It was not that long ago when the Minister told me about you and this new program he wanted to implement here. Quite frankly I never thought that it would happen. Next thing I know he shows up in my office with plans to have you come on board and bring in some 'forward and progressive ideas'." Healer Hope raised both hand ups in the air and made her air quotes with a sarcastic demeanor. She continued, "And to my surprise, regardless of my arguing that you have been out of wizard school for years, he insisted that you become a member of MY staff! Apparently you are one of a kind, Healer Granger. Now, tell me, what do you think should be done to save this patient?"

Healer Hope stopped walking at this point and her group continued forward, disappeared around the corner leaving their leader behind. She faced Hermione and crossed her arms over her chest, her feet spread shoulder width apart as she squared up to her employee. Healer Hope was a short stout witch with strawberry-blonde hair that was fashioned into a long wavy bob. Hermione assumed she was in her sixties, but honestly had no clue since she has been the Head Healer for St. Mungo's years before Hermione was born. What she does know about Healer Hope is that she exudes an air of confidence and superiority, just like Kingsley, but this woman is a force to reckon with at all times. She was blunt, intimidating, and powerful.

Hermione could feel the hairs behind her neck stand on end as she searched her thoughts for the right answer. She mumbled and stuttered for a bit and then finally began her reasoning on why she should treat this patient. "The patient is exhibiting signs of dyspnea, also known as labored breathing. Now her condition is what I would call chronic, meaning that it is something that has existed for a while, since she's been complaining of these symptoms for years. However, these bouts of breathlessness, I feel, are acute episodes of her chronic condition. I am proposing to have her come to my lab so that I may run some tests on her. There I would be able to find out what is going on with her biologically and see how we could help her magically. The lab has been ready for weeks and I feel that this is the best chance that this patient has to finding out what is really wrong with her and relieving her of this problem," Hermione replied matter-of-factly, her chest puffed out and her cheeks flushed now that her veins were running on adrenaline. She exhaled deeply and looked away from the Head Healer's penetrating stare for a second, calming her heart rate now that her fight of flight autonomic responses began to fade. She looked back up at her superior and felt that Healer Hope's scrutinizing gaze, paired with her arched judging eyebrow, would be the only response to her solution in helping the patient.

"Hmmm, I will keep in touch," Healer Hope replied flippantly. With a turn of her heel she walked down the corridor, leaving Hermione with her heart pounding and wondering if she made a positive impact on the Head Healer's already poor opinion of her.

The next day Hermione arrived to work and found a memo addressed to her hovering inside the elevator. She opened up the letter and smiled once she finished reading it.

 _Healer Granger,_

 _Your presence will be needed at 0900 in the consult room this morning. You will be proposing your treatment options to the patient and her family. Be prepared for questions and please be prompt._

 _Respectfully,_

 _Healer Alicia Ursula Willow Hope, Head Mediwizard of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies_

Grinning from ear to ear, she crumpled the note into her pocket and made her way towards the breakroom. She felt ecstatic and a bit apprehensive about her chances with helping this patient find a cure. Her excitement stemmed from thoughts of her finally having the chance to prove her worth to everyone in this hospital, especially Healer Hope. Yet, she was apprehensive about pursuing these treatments because there is always the possibility of failure. After collecting her donut and coffee, she tried her best to rid herself from these negative thoughts as she made her way into her usual chair and began to plan for the arrival of her patient.

It was eight fifty-five and Hermione was pacing back and forth inside the consult room, her lime green robes billowing and flowing with a whirl as she changed her direction every six steps. She was mumbling out loud to herself as she ticked off her fingers over and over, only to become frazzled and restart her mumbling over again.

"Relax, Hermione, everything is going to be okay," replied a wizard in olive green robes. A witch with the same colored robes sat in the corner of the room watching silently, twiddling her thumbs as she waited for the door to swing open. Hermione had a staff of twelve to assist her with the program an are all muggleborns since they were most familiar with muggle medicine thus being easy enough to train. Kingsley also had these people venture into the muggle education systems to become accomplished in their new careers. For this meeting, however, Hermione only requested her two most competent lab technicians, Will and Letty, to join the consultation for support and to answer any questions the family might have with testing and procedures.

"I know Will, but I am just so nervous. This is it, you know. This is what we were trained to do and now it's happening. This is so different compared to the muggle world; don't you think? I'm a bit jittery right now, too. Maybe I shouldn't have had three cups of coffee and two donuts today. But it's okay. We'll be okay. They'll hear what I have to say and then go for it. It's finally happening. I can't believe it!" Hermione stopped pacing and made her way to sit in an arm chair, staring down at her watch as the second hand clicked its way to another minute, her leg jumping up and doubling in rhythm to the seconds as she anticipated the start of this groundbreaking meeting.

Finally, the door swung open and Healer Hope made her way into the room. Hermione and her two technicians stood up immediately, nodding their heads in acknowledgement. Finally, the patient was wheeled into the room and her family followed after. Instantly, Hermione's feelings of hopefulness and optimism began to drain out of her. She felt her wide, excited smile melt into a forced haphazard toothy sneer. Feeling eyes were on her, she tried to regain her composure and offered a small nod with thin straight lips. Her heart sank into her stomach and a small wave of nausea crept up on her as the patient, whose platinum blonde hair sported a striking black streak down the middle of her head, was wheeled in front of her. Another woman with dark, voluminous black curls was ushered in as two men with strikingly similar features made their way inside the room, closing the door behind them. For a long second, Hermione stared at the Malfoys in disbelief and a bit of trepidation in this surreal situation. Being one of the oldest pure-blood families, she knew that anything muggle related that was going to be brought up had a high possibility of being shut down immediately. She braced herself for introductions.

" _Why me_ ," she thought morosely once the door closed behind them.

"Mrs. Malfoy and family, I would like to introduce you to one of our newest Mediwizards, Healer Granger. She is specializing in Spell Damage at this hospital and holds a degree as a medical doctor in the muggle community as a cardiologist. Healer, you may start when ready." The Head Mediwizard, gestured towards the Malfoys to take a seat in the empty chairs and she herself sat down beside them to hear what the muggleborn witch had to say.

Hermione felt her palms begin to sweat and a flash of heat lined her cheeks once all eyes were upon her. Her heart raced with what she hoped would be abnormal arrhythmias, only because she longed for the chance of a clot forming and ending her moment with these people. Normally, she was in her element. She had no trouble during her time at Johns Hopkins in taking the lead and making the plan known precisely and clearly. Today, however, her audience threw her for a loop.

Narcissa straightened her posture, her back ramrod straight as she held her chin high. Her uniquely colored hair was styled in a tight chignon and she wore a satin black and blue house robe with a sash that tied around her waist, along with matching house slippers. Her husband, Lucius Malfoy, was seated to her right side. He was dressed in ornately embroidered charcoal robes with matte black shoes that matched the paint to his new cane. His hair was slicked back perfectly and tied in a ponytail with a black ribbon. He sat with indifference to his surrounding company and kept an air of nonchalance as he stared straight ahead. Draco Malfoy sat behind his mother, only an arm's reach away. His eyes filled with worry as he fondly stroked his mother's backside. To Hermione's surprise he was the only one not wearing robes. He paired shiny brown loafers with a brown belt, both adding contrast against his navy blue slacks. His white crisp collared shirt had a gray tie resting against the middle of his chest while his navy blue blazer lay folded against the backside of his chair. The woman to his right was Astoria Malfoy, his wife. She wore mint and white silk robes that had embroidered magenta flowers lining the floor of the gown and a charm that made the flowers appear to float up her backside. The family looked immaculate, as though they were dressed for the cover of Witch Weekly. " _Draco more so Vogue_ ," Hermione thought randomly as she glanced once again at his muggle attire. Shaking her head, Hermione straightened out her robes and took a deep breath as she prepared herself to address the Malfoy Matriarch.

"Mrs. Malfoy, it is a pleasure to meet you," Hermione surprised herself that this was said genuinely and not through gritted teeth. "I have come across plenty of people with your symptoms and I feel that there is an alternative way to look for your cure. You are what the medical community would refer to as being dyspneic, and this is just a fancy way to say that you're in the act of having some difficulty with breathing. Based on the information that Healer Hope provided to me, I can only assume that you're exhibiting symptoms of a chronic condition that is being exacerb-"

"Healer Hope what is this? What is she talking about? Chronic and dyspn- whatever? I have no idea what she's talking to me about. I don't understand any of those words. They sound made up honestly. Is she speaking English?" Narcissa interjected as she looked at Healer Hope, clearly ignoring Hermione.

"Yes, I'm not understanding what she is saying either. What is it that you're proposing here, Healer Hope," Lucius asked, disregarding Hermione. The older Malfoys then began to talk out loud all at once, raising their concerns to Healer Hope only.

 _"And pretty much insinuating a mudblood wouldn't know how to help her_ ," Hermione thought, disgusted with herself that she allowed these people to disrespect her in this way.

Her pupils dilated into round black orbs and her skin singed with a rage she had only felt just once before; funny enough, it was a Malfoy to blame for making her feel this way. She clenched her fists her knuckles whitening as she squeezed her fingernails deep into her palms. She should have known that this was going to happen. _"After all, it is a mudblood lecturing them on what they should do about their health,"_ Hermione thought bitterly. Her Gryffindor courage and righteousness began to slowly emanate from her body; she felt as though she were a glowing golden aura, her rage developing into assertiveness and control. Finally, she found her voice and raised it over the commotion.

"Excuse me!" Hermione yelled, her voice reverberating against the bare walls throughout the room, startling the present company enough to have them turn around and look up at her, eyes wide and mouths agape. She stared back with furrowed brows and an assertive stare. She continued, "I wasn't finished. And since I am the one leading this consult, I would appreciate if all questions were brought to MY attention, not to Healer Hope. Now, what I was saying is that I believe you have a condition where your body is not allowing you to breathe properly because of how your heart is working. And since it has been happening for quite a while without any notice as to when it starts, I am proposing that I inspect your body, inside and out. Once all tests are finalized I should be able to come up with a diagnosis. Upon diagnosis, we will have a better chance in finding a specific treatment for you, either through muggle medicine or magic, to control your condition or rid you from it, hopefully, forever." She felt her chest rise and fall as she breathed heavily, her sugar-rush mixed with adrenaline was finally dissipating. Mentally fatigued she sat down in her chair and placed her elbow on the armrest with her hand resting against her chin, waiting, almost hoping, for someone to ask her a question.

The Malfoys stared back in amazement at Hermione Granger. Never had anyone spoke to them in that manner during their stay here in this hospital. Healer Hope stared back curiously at the younger witch and secretly applauded her staff member. Finally, it was Astoria who broke the silence.

"What do you mean that you are going to inspect her body from the inside?" Her voice was delicate and sincere. Hermione was a little taken aback with her politeness.

"Well, I am hoping to do a procedure called an X-ray to determine if there are any noticeable anatomical abnormalities in her chest cavity. I also need to collect some of her blood, both from her veins and her arteries, so that way I can see what is going on with, for lack of a better description, the plumbing." Hermione felt she was losing her audience the second she mentioned she needed to collect blood. The look of horror on all the Malfoys' faces said it all.

"Blood? What kind of sorcery will you be doing, Granger," Lucius spat as he brought his wife's hands into his own in his attempt to calm Narcissa's nerves. "Speaking for this family, we are not interested in getting my wife mixed up in any type of dark magic, regardless of what you can assume our past history with the dark arts consist of." He gritted his teeth at that last comment and looked at Hermione with challenging eyes.

Trying her hardest to keep her composure, she got up from her chair and walked up to Narcissa. She knelt down on one knee and made sure she was eye level with the woman. She looked into her eyes and saw that there was a hint of fear and intrigue. Hermione placed her hand on Narcissa's wheel and made her plea. "I am not talking about doing any kind of magic at this moment, and dark magic will never be used as a treatment method, Mrs. Malfoy. I can promise you that much. Every instrument that will be used to collect samples from your body is sanitized and muggle made. I will gladly explain every procedure and every piece of equipment to you to the best of my ability. My staff here will be more than happy to do the same and I'm sure they would be better at it than me. They are very proficient in what they do and are knowledgeable individuals. You will be working closely with Will and Letty, as well as eight other individuals, since they will be performing the procedures themselves. I will be supervising everything and be with you every step of the way. If you would like Healer Hope present during your procedures, just to put your mind at ease, then we can do that. But I need you to understand, Mrs. Malfoy, that I respect your decisions and if you choose to not undergo any procedure then I will honor your request. But from my professional opinion, I am suggesting that we run some tests to see if muggle medicine will benefit you. And if something turns up to suggest that muggle medicine would be beneficial, I promise to not disperse treatment unless you, and only you, have given consent."

Narcissa Malfoy looked away from Hermione and stared back at her husband. His apathetic features provided Hermione with nothing to determine what was going on in his mind. "May we have the room to ourselves to discuss our options," Lucius asked as he continued to stare at his wife.

"Of course, take as much time as you need," replied Healer Hope. The Healers left the room, leaving the family to talk amongst themselves. Hermione felt the energy drain from her body the moment she closed the door behind her. She knew that they would place a Silencing charm to avoid eavesdropping so there was no point in her trying to press her ear against the door. She pressed her back against the wall and felt her knees give way and slide her down to the floor. "Letty, Will, you both can leave. I really doubt there is anything else that's going to be done here. I appreciate you coming today." The two lab techs shrugged and waved their goodbyes.

Healer Hope stood across from Hermione. She stared intently at the witch crumpled up on the floor, not saying a word or necessarily blinking her eyes. She was trying to figure her out. "You did good in there. I think you have them considering your treatment options."

Hermione lifted her head and gawked back at the witch with disbelief. "You really think so? I honestly think they're going to shoot me down. I have a history with this family, one that I think will play a factor in their decision making. Ironically, it has to do with blood, too." Hermione chuckled awkwardly as she slid her hand under the sleeve of her robes. She absentmindedly fingered the lettering of her hypertrophic scar, staring off in the distance, reminiscing on thoughts filled with fear and blood curdling screams of torture. "I wouldn't blame them, though. They're set in their ways and that's something that I have never had any control of, regardless of what I did to prevent otherwise."

"Do you know what the Malfoys are to wizarding London, Ms. Granger?"Healer Hope asked curiously. Shaking her head out of her stupor, Hermione picked herself up off the floor and focused her attention on Healer Hope. "Since your absence from the wizard community, they have made a favorable name for themselves. Once acquitted from all crimes dealing with Vo-Voldemort, thanks in part to your friend Mr. Potter, they seemed to turn over a new leaf. They were the first pureblood family to use their wealth to help rebuild the wizard community. Eventually other pureblood families began to volunteer their funds and time in aiding those that needed it. Soon the Malfoy's developed a foundation to help those in need post war. They were also the main family to contribute in rebuilding Hogwarts. And I don't mean only monetarily, but physically help rebuild Hogwarts. Draco and Lucius were out with the rest of the community laying bricks and transporting stones while Narcissa and Draco's wife, Astoria, made sure the landscape was appealing, as well as the décor inside the castle. Today, Lucius and Malfoy conduct their business within the Ministry and Narcissa and Astoria are into their charity work. The Malfoy name is now synonymous with philanthropy and commitment. They're even expanding their bloodline; Astoria is expecting a boy in the next four months."

Hermione stared back at her superior in awe. She has been living and coexisting in the wizard community for the past five months already and she is only now realizing that she has absolutely no clue about what is going on in the wizarding world. How could Harry or Ron not bother mentioning this big change to the Malfoy name? Not that she cares about the Malfoys or what any other people are doing with their lives, but she felt that maybe this tidbit on the Malfoy family would have been convenient to know.

The door creaked open and Draco popped his head out. "We have made our decision." He stepped out of the doorway and held it open for the two women. Healer Hope made her way inside and Hermione was about to enter until Draco began to look up and down the hallway. "Will the others be joining us?"

Hermione was a little stunned, being addressed by Draco Malfoy in a civil manner was odd amd unsettling. "No, unless you feel the need to have them explain something specifically then I can summon them."

"No, no, that's not necessary." He gestured with his hand for her to go through the door and she entered without another word.

"Healer Granger, Healer Hope," Narcissa spoke in an eloquently smooth voice. "I have spoken with my family and I have a few questions that need to be answered before I decide on continuing with your suggestions."

Hermione unapologetically smiled and exclaimed, "Of course Mrs. Malfoy. Please continue."

"I want to be sure that I have a say in what you suggest should be done to me. If at any point I feel that a procedure would not benefit me, even after you explain the technique to me and my family, then my reply of no will be my final answer. I am a stubborn women and do not wish to argue the reasoning behind my reluctance. Now, in the off chance that recovery is not in my future, I need to know what type of interventions will be performed to aid in the continuation of my life." Lucius reached out for his wife's hand as she choked out her last statement.

" _Talking about death is a taboo subject for families, whether you're muggle or magic folk,_ " Hermione thought as she noticed Astoria grab for Draco's hand at the mention of Narcissa's demise. "I understand your concerns and your requirements, Mrs. Malfoy. We will thoroughly go over the documentation needed to proceed with your treatment and I will gladly take your opinions and wishes into consideration. As for the case in life or death, we can provide limited interventions or we can do everything within our power, whether it be through muggle or magical treatments, to make sure that you remain alive. You don't have to make a decision right now but know that there are options."

"I wish for you to do everything within your power to keep me alive. I have a grandson on the way and a daughter-in-law that will require help raising him. My family needs me and so I expect you to keep me thriving," Narcissa stated decisively. Like a lioness defending her pride, Narcissa raised her chin a tad bit higher, challenging Hermione to deny her demands.

Hermione contemplated for a moment on the Malfoy family. Lucius Malfoy was staring at his wife with a look of worry, quickly recovering into a mask of indifference. Draco on the other hand didn't hide his feelings. His brows furrowed with concern and his frown was even more pronounced when he noticed his wife lovingly stroke her conspicuous baby bump.

"If it comes down to it Mrs. Malfoy, my staff and I will do everything within our power to keep you alive."

Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following! Constructive criticism is always welcome. -A


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Narcissa stared into Hermione's eyes, searching for any signs of dishonesty in her statement. After several moments, she appeared content with what she saw and smiled coyly in response. Hermione's face burned against her scrutinizing gaze, but she didn't back down from Narcissa's glower.

"Okay, Healer Granger. What do you expect of me?" Narcissa folded her arms over her chest and leaned back against her wheelchair. She cocked one eyebrow up expectantly in Hermione's direction and inwardly smiled as she watched the young witch's demeanor morph into one of confidence then to confusing astonishment.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock and disbelief at the matriarch's nonchalance in accepting this new journey into her health care. She felt her mouth go dry and her palms began to sweat. Her anxiety peaking it's nasty head enabling her breathing to become slightly labored but she willed her negative thoughts back. " _There will be plenty of time to overanalyze this later tonight. For now you just got to get through this,"_ she convinced herself as she summoned a glass of water to quench her thirst. She still could not believe Narcissa Malfoy would allow a muggleborn to treat and diagnose her with muggle technology and medicine. Hermione let out a breathy laugh as a smile escaped her lips and she looked up towards Mrs. Malfoy confidently.

"First I would like to ask you some questions about your family history and delve a little further into how your symptoms present and when they become exacerbated. I would also require a physical examination." Hermione noticed Narcissa tug her house robe a little tighter and looked away with blushing cheeks.

Not skipping a beat, Hermione continued to explain, "This will allow me to feel areas of your body and assess for any anatomical anomalies."

Lucius suddenly rose from his chair in a dignified fluster. He straightened out his robes and turned towards his wife. "Narcissa, I believe I am no longer needed in regards of these matters. And if that is the case then I will, unfortunately, take my leave at once. I am needed back at the Ministry and I will return when matters are under control. Draco, Astoria please allow your mother some privacy."

"Of course, Father, " Draco replied and he got up and made his way towards his mother. She offered him her cheek and he kissed it tenderly followed by a breathy whisper in her ear. Narcissa smirked and replied, "I might as well be reaching for the moon." She looked up into her only child's eyes and gingerly stroked his cheek.

Draco smiled, sad and strained, "You are so old-fashioned. Have you not heard? We are building rockets to reach the moon."

Hermione looked away at this touching exchange, feeling as though she were intruding on something personal. It was awkward to see Draco and Narcissa in this caring light. It was a feat she didn't think any Malfoy capable of experiencing or showcasing publicly.

Draco smiled warmly at his mother. "We'll be in your room. Please call once you need me."

Narcissa responded with an air kiss and Draco turned towards the door. Astoria hugged Narcissa in a tight embrace; her belly making it awkward to position oneself comfortably. She then released her mother-in-law, swiped a tear away from her cheek, and made her way back to her husband's side. Lucius was the last to bid adieu to his wife. He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles tenderly and sweetly as he stared into her eyes. "I won't be long," he assured her and then gracefully turned on his heel to exit the room.

Hermione allowed Narcissa a moment as she watched her family retreat. Even after the door closed she continued to stare in that direction.

"I will be remaining, Mrs. Malfoy, only to oversee the next topic at hand," Healer Hope walked forward and magically summoned a desk with a blue folder sitting in front of Narcissa. She brought her chair towards the table and sat as she waited for Narcissa to initiate the continuation of the consult.

"Healer Granger, there is something that I must confess." Narcissa then turned towards Hermione, her eyes pleading as a defeated woman presented herself by placing her elbows against the table with her hands clasped. A sign of prayer or pleading, Hermione wasn't sure. Narcissa then looked down into her hands, appearing unsure as to how to begin her admission.

"I know that my situation appears hopeless, at least it looks like that way in my point of view. For years I have lived with this ailment and I don't see an end to my suffering coming in the near future." Narcissa then looked up at Hermione, her chin held high and eyes blazing with confidence as she straightened up her posture. "I need you to know that I am a proud woman, and I will go down fighting for my life. But if it is required for your muggle technology to keep me alive, and that appears to be the only barrier between life and death," Narcissa's voice broke as she struggled to get her words out. She took a few breaths to compose herself and returned with that elitist persona. "Then I will welcome death."

"Mrs. Malfoy, I do not place judgement on people's choices when it comes their plan of care. I am an advocate for all my patients, muggle or wizard. Whatever you decide I will respect your wishes." Hermione explained reassuringly.

Narcissa's shoulders slumped slightly as she exhaled in relief. She then opened the folder in front of her and began to thumb through the pages.

"I do need to clarify one detail," Hermione added as she scooted her chair closer to Narcissa.

"You feel this way right now, however," Hermione paused and contemplated her choice of wording. "If your mind was to become altered or you deemed incapable of making rational decisions in regards to changes you may make from your original plans of care, who would you want to be the person in charge of your health care decisions?"

Hermione allowed Narcissa to contemplate on her thoughts. She knew that these type of decisions require a bit of time to process and typically muggle families do expect to make this decision when a loved one is in the hospital. However, wizarding society is new territory for Hermione and she felt as though she was walking on thin ice. She didn't know what to expect from the Malfoy matriarch and she didn't want to risk her running for the hills when they were just barely scratching the surface.

Finally Narcissa spoke. "Draco. He will be in charge of my care. I have already discussed a similar situation with him and he has agreed to take on such a heavy burden if need be."

Hermione nodded in understanding and continued presenting paperwork until Narcissa interjected with an unusual statement. "And Lucius should never know this."

Hermione stopped, her eyebrows furrowed as she comprehended Narcissa's unexpected statement. "So you don't want your husband to have any say in what to do with your life if worse comes to worse?"

Narcissa looked down into her hands, her fingers fidgeting and twirling her wedding ring round and around her thin finger. She looked up suddenly, eyes closed and breathing deeply. Her face appeared strained as the crow's feet became pronounced with every squint. She appeared to fight back tears as the corners of her eyes brimmed with moisture.

"Lucius has a biased opinion. He loves me unconditionally and will not allow me to die so easily. Draco and I have already discussed such matters. He will be in charge of my care if I am unable to communicate my needs via sound mind," Narcissa clipped with a decisiveness that signaled the end of this discussion. Hermione took this as her cue to finalize the paperwork required for her advance directives.

After signing and initialing what was needed, Hermione pulled out one last form. "Okay, now that that's settled, all that's required is for you and Draco to sign this form with a witness. In this case we can have Healer Hope be your witness. We can ring Draco right now to meet us here or we can always finish this tomorrow. The decision is yours, Mrs. Malfoy."

"I feel we should complete this now so as not to have any loose ends," Narcissa murmured. And in that statement she allowed her veiled confident persona reveal a beaten and tired woman. Her shoulders hunched forward as she placed her head through her hands; her fingers rummaging through her hair and pulling lightly so as to distract her from breaking down into a fit of sobs. Recognizing Narcissa's subtle cry for comfort, Hermione allowed her bedside manner training to kick in. She reached for Narcissa's shoulder and placed her hand warmly against her shoulder blade.

"I am here for you, Mrs. Malfoy. You are my priority. And if at any point in time you feel that something is not meeting your expectations, then you have every right to stop any and all treatments. You even have the privilege of firing me if you feel that I do not prove myself to you. I will take no offense if that were to be the case, but just so you know." Hermione leaned in closer and whispered, only to add emphasis to her proclamation. "I am very stubborn, anal, brilliant, and competent in what I do. I have the drive and desire to provide you the best treatment options that modern technology has available as well as state of the art potions/charms that will allow you to sustain a symptom free life. My…our end goal is to allow you a long, happy, healthy life with your family."

"Thank you, Healer Granger." Narcissa offered a short pursed grin. She cleared her throat signaling that the moment was over and then raised her wand towards her St. Mungo's patient admittance bracelet. It began to glow green and Hermione heard a man's voice reverberate through.

"Is everything settled," questioned the silvery inquisitive voice

"Not quite, my dear," Narcissa purred. "You are needed back at the consult room. And please tell Astoria not to fret. I can only imagine how her worried little mind is at the moment. Let her know you will return within minutes and I am doing fine. We are left with dotting the i's and crossing t's now."

"Of course, Mother. I will be there shortly," Draco replied.

Within moments Draco was knocking lightly against the door before entering. He quickly scanned the room to locate his mother and his eyes warmed and settled once he located her. Healer Hope summoned a chair beside Narcissa's other side and Draco sat down beside his mother. He immediately reached out for her hand in both of his and she offered her his cheek for him to kiss once more. Hermione found the gesture oddly heartbreaking.

"Draco, honey, I will require you to make decisions for me if I am incapable of doing so. I already mentioned to Healer Granger my terms in regards to allowing your father dictate my care and she has agreed with what we have already spoken of. All that is required now is signing the paperwork."

Draco scowled as he read the forms Narcissa handed him. "Should we have someone look into this? I mean, what if there is something that they're not telling us?" Draco shamelessly side eyed both Healers in the room.

Hermione clicked her tongue at the top of her palette signaling her annoyance and leaned back against her chair with her arms crossed. Healer Hope admonished her with a stern gaze and Hermione quickly sat up and placed her hands in her lap; a look of indifference plastered across her face as she stared at her former childhood tormentor.

"My dear, there is no need to worry. Everything has been settled. All that is required is you sign the documents." Still looking hesitantly, Narcissa pouted at her son and a small smirk merged rebelliously from Draco's lips.

"You are aggravating, Mother," he exclaimed as he reached for the quill laid across him. "Where do I sign?"

After everything was settled and more questions answered, Hermione found herself alone in her consult room. The lights appeared exponentially brighter and she felt her chest rise and fall faster and faster as she realized her situation.

" _This is it. It's finally happening_ ," she thought as she ran both her hands through her hair. She clenched her eyes shut and willed her breaths to slow. She had been waiting for what seemed like forever to have an opportunity like this.

" _But with the Malfoy family," s_ he thought begrudgingly. She removed her hands from her hair and began to glide her finger tips along her scar. She allowed herself to reminisce on the tortuous moments she experienced at Malfoy Manor. Her body instinctively shuddered away those negative thoughts, but then she began to dwell on the nasty comments Draco himself would spew her way when they were children.

" _Am I capable of handling this family? Or will they swallow me whole and leave me broken?"_

Her breathing became hitched and she allowed a couple of tears to fall from her eyes. She sensed her anxiety on the verge of overwhelming her and so she thought of what Dawson instructed her to do the last time. A pang of hurt speared through her chest at the thought of Dawson. She hadn't spoken to him at all these past five months. Her eyes brimmed even more tears when she thought about the confession he made to her. She cared for Dawson tremendously but she couldn't but be cautious with her love life. After Ron she couldn't afford to allow herself to get into a relationship, let alone fall in love with someone. Especially now that her career and dreams were finally taking flight. Once she was able to calm herself she stood to locate her jacket. It was a cold, dreary, rainy night outside of St. Mungo's and Hermione planned to walk through it in order to clear her mind. She then turned off the lights in the consult room and locked the door behind her.

She enjoyed her walks home when her mind was frazzled at the end of her workdays. She was able to over analyze the day's outcomes and pour over alternate endings to see if she could learn from any mistakes she may have made. Eventually the rain stopped and she found herself seconds away from entering through the wrought iron gate of her apartment building. She rummaged through her purse in search for the keys in her bag not noticing the man that was approaching her cautiously, slowly. Still consumed with her search, she shook her purse and then her jacket as she tried to locate her keys with her auditory senses. She finally heard the familiar jingle in her coat pocket and retrieved them. She placed her key into the keyhole and suddenly felt the hair against the back of her neck rise on end with the sensation of a firm grip grasping her right shoulder.

"Her-OOOOF!"

In the blink of an eye, Hermione reached into her hidden coat pocket and retrieved her wand. She took aim towards the intruder's abdomen and fired off a spell before he could sense what was coming.

"Petrificus totalus," she whispered as the unknown person froze and fell over within milliseconds of her utterance of the spell. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she looked around for any bystanders, thanking Merlin that no one appeared to be in sight. She glanced at her assailant and instantly felt regret as she looked into Dawson's shocked and terrified expression. His mouth was immobile yet he still tried to grunt and spew gibberish in his body-binded state.

"Dawson! You scared the shit out of me!" Hermione yelled as she clenched her chest, still eyeing up and down the street. Once she triple checked her surroundings, she uttered the counter curse and helped Dawson up.

"What the hell are you doing here? And why the hell are you sneaking up on people in the dark?" Hermione inconspicuously placed her wand back in her secret jacket pocket and turned back towards the gate allowing entry for herself and Dawson. He clumsily straightened up and rubbed his bottom tenderly. Whatever it was that Hermione did to him he fell hard. " _Literally and figuratively_ ," he thought as he laughed a short, self-conscious laugh.

"Well, I was going for the element of surprise. Now that's one more thing to add to my list of Hermione tidbits. One, do not sneak up on Hermione. Two, announce your presence at all times." He joked as he mimed writing into a notepad into the palm of his hand.

Hermione smirked and shoved him away playfully. "Dawson, I'm being serious. What are you doing here? And how did you find out where I lived?"

Dawson immediately dropped his jokester persona and revealed a shy and timid man. "I got your address through, Mia." He whispered with squinted his eyes as he braced himself for another attack from this formidable woman.

"She gave you my address," Hermione questioned with suspicious eyes. She knew when he was lying and was always prepared to call him out on his bullshit.

"Technically, no." He looked down at the concrete floor as he became suddenly interested in what his feet were doing. "I found a letter she wrote you on her counter top and copied down your address."

Hermione stared wide-eyed in disbelief. Mia knew that she wasn't ready to face Dawson and that's why she hadn't wrote to him all these months. Hermione allowed her thoughts to wander towards unflattering vulgar adjectives describing the carelessness of her friend.

Sensing her tension, Dawson continued explaining himself. "Hermione, I hadn't heard from you in a long time. I know you're avoiding me and I understand that. But understand that you are my friend first and foremost. You are one of my best friends. I don't want to sacrifice that part of us just because..."He trailed off into a whisper and stepped closer towards her body. He reached out for her hand and she surrendered it without hesitation but continued to avoid his gaze.

"Please Hermione, say something," he pleaded as his other hand reached for her chin to avert her gaze from the ground to his pleading, expectant face.

Finally she looked up into his aquamarine eyes and allowed herself to relax. She couldn't argue with his reasoning; in America he was her only friend for the first three years at Johns Hopkins and he was always loyal in regards to their ambiguous relationship.

"You are one of my best friends, too, Dawson. I'm sorry I have been so distant. I didn't know what to say or expect that night after we confessed our secrets to one another. I really didn't think you would want anything to do with me. Especially since you are aware of a part of my life that no one else knows of in America. And that kiss…" She whispered that last statement and grabbed his hand from her chin and squeezed it tightly.

"Yeah, that's another reason why I wanted to talk with you in person. What did you mean that you are a w-," Hermione quickly muttered a silencing charm, pulled Dawson through the wrought iron fence and into her apartment building. She was located on the first floor and conveniently placed at the end of the hall near the fire exit sign. She muttered another word that Dawson understood as, "Alohamora," and made her way into her apartment. She quickly muttered a counter curse and Dawson was able to find his voice again.

"What was that? How do you do that?" Dawson asked quickly and alarmingly. He stared at Hermione in amazement and wonder as he began to process his thoughts on the talents that this woman has yet to reveal.

"You can't call me a witch out there in public. At least not in muggle London." Hermione explained as she ceremoniously placed her items where they typically belong: purse on the entry table, jacket on the coat rack, and shoes against the wall.

"Muggle? What the hell is that?" Dawson asked as he took in her new living quarters. He began to remove his coat and placed it on Hermione's cream colored leather couch as he followed her into the kitchen. "Nice digs. London must be paying you good."

Ignoring his observances Hermione proceeded to answer his question. "Muggles are considered nonmagic folk. You, for example, are a muggle. The Queen is a muggle. Mia is a muggle. Except in America they are considered No-Maj; my British roots will not allow me to distinguish them with that label so from here on out we shall consider you a muggle." Hermione stated matter-of-factly as she rummaged through her cabinets for a tea kettle and mugs.

"So I'm a muggle? Is there any other label you go by other than a witch?" Dawson treaded cautiously. He didn't know what to expect with this type of content and he was making sure to keep Hermione neutral since this seemed like a sensitive subject.

She stopped what she was doing and instinctively reached up her arm to find the scar. Her mind kept repeating the word over and over in her mind, but her mouth didn't allow her to utter the word. "I am a witch. But if you want to be specific I am a muggle-born witch. It just means I was born to two non-magical parents."

Dawson sensed her apprehension to describe her culture and went in to comfort her, but she brushed him off and continued with placing the kettle under the sink to fill it with water. Hermione felt she needed to do something, to keep moving, in order to go through with further revealing who she really is. She placed the kettle onto the stove and began to rummage around more cabinets for tea bags. Sensing her reluctance to further explain Dawson continued to prod.

"Now by witch do you mean dancing naked under the full moon and worshipping stones and nature? Because if that's the case then sign me up, convert me, whatever" Dawson smiled but it was strained and forced. He wanted to make light of the situation but he honestly didn't know how to.

"No," Hermione replied annoyed. She paused and debated on what to say next. She knew that what she was about to say would sound crazy and maybe this would make Dawson run for the hills. But this would be the defining moment as to what Hermione can expect in furthering her platonic…romantic…relations with Dawson.

"There is no naked dancing. However I respect nature and do believe that certain…stones are powerful," her lips curled into a knowing smile as she reminisced on her first year at Hogwarts. She then pulled out her wand and held it in front of him, offering a closer glimpse into her world. "This is my wand. I use it to cast spells. That's how I was able to overtake you outside. That's how I was able to get you to shut up about me being a witch before we made it inside. That's how I was able to open my door and allow you to speak once we were safe indoors." She then gripped the end of her wand eliciting gold sparks flying from the tip as the wand relished its owners touch.

Dawson's eyes widened in disbelief. At that moment an earsplitting high pitch whistle broke the wonderment and awe that Dawson was feeling. Hermione flicked her wand and muttered an incantation that allowed her tea kettle to float and pour steaming hot water into two tea cups. She then spelled the kettle to go back onto the stove

Hermione motioned with her head to have Dawson follow her into the living room as the teacups floated behind them. He sat across from her and watched her as she blew against the steam rising from her tea cup as it landed into her hands. She two lumps of sugar floated above her cup and fell into her cup as a hands-free spoon stirred the perimeter of the cup. Dawson remained stupefied with what he just witnessed and stared curiously at the woman before him.

"Drink it before it gets cold," Hermione stated as the sugar cubes and spoon prepared his tea to his liking. He blew away steam at the top of his cup and took a small noisy sip. They then sat in silence for several minutes until Dawson felt the need to speak about some that has been on his mind. He wanted to show Hermione that this thing wasn't something that was going to deter him from continuing their relationship, whether it be romantic or friendly. Instead he went for a neutral statement.

"Can I see you do something else with magic?" His sheepish smile curled at the corner of his pink lip as his bright inquisitive eyes shined with sincerity and wonder.

Hermione giggled as she considered his statement and pulled out her wand once more. With a flick of her wrist and the utterance of a few unintelligible words, Hermione was able to conjure a blue light followed by flock of birds. Dawson's eyes appeared to bulge out of his head and a long winded, "WOW!" escaped his lips while Hermione stared, smiling at her friend's reaction.

*Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is always welcome. -A*


	5. Chapter 5

A sparse, light drizzle permeated the frosty air around her as she attempted to focus on her breathing _, "Inhale 1-2-3-4-5, exhale 1-2-3-4-5-6-7_." Her sneakers slammed into small puddles of water and each stride rebelled against her rhythmic respirations. Running was therapeutic for Hermione and today she needed to run a marathon. She attempted to focus on her breaths, her distance, her time as she pounded across the pavement; but snippets of the previous night's interactions continued to invade her train of thought as she jogged towards her destination.

"In 1-2-3-4-5…out 1-2-3-4-5-6-7…in 1-2-3-4-5-…out 1-2-3…," she thought out loud until a vision charged its way to the forefront of her mind. "W _arm caramel eyes dilated into dark round orbs rapt in attention with my own…his wanton gaze trailed down my body slowly, lingering on my collarbone longer than necessary and subtly making its way down to my breasts."_

Shaking her head and trying again, "4-5…1-2-3-4-5-6-7…1-2-3-4-5…1-2-3,"

" _The cushions shift with his weight as he reaches out with warm, strong hands to grasp my own. His thumb lazily draws slow circles over my palm, his touch searing into my skin…a musky scent invades my senses as he leans into me…his other hand reaches out to me and he cups my chin gently…his thumb sweetly trailing my jawline…,"_

" _5-_ 4-5-6 _…,"_

" _I'm mesmerized by his lips as I watch him deliberately swipe his tongue against his plump inviting lips, moistening them in anticipation…I mirror his motion…,"_

"… _-_ 7…1-2-…,"

" _My body relents and my traitorous hands snake their way around the back of Dawson's neck…,"_

"3-3-4 _…,"_

" _Our lips crash and mold into themselves as they move in a synchronicity mixed with a sense of urgency."_

"OH! For fuck's sakes!" Out of breath, conflicted, and turned on, Hermione silently thanked Merlin when St. Mungo's came into view.

" _Why does he have to be such a good kisser?"_ She thought miserably as she bypassed her normal routine of saying hi and mingling with the staff. It's not that she didn't want to kiss Dawson, that fantasy came to her on a daily basis almost immediately after he burst into her call room and helped her during that panic attack. Until Dawson came along having a love interest during her time in America was not part of the plan. And she was okay with that.

" _But you're not in America anymore_."

She made her way towards the stairwell and rushed up taking two steps at a time. Still lost in her thoughts as she entered her floor through the stairwell, Hermione almost missed the woman waiting patiently for her in the lobby.

"Oh…oh! Healer Granger! Healer Granger, may I have a quick word?"

Hermione turned towards the voice and raised her eyebrows in surprise. A very pregnant Astoria Malfoy was waddling towards her in flowy plum colored robes. Moments later Astoria reached her destination only to lean backwards against a wall and close her eyes as she gradually slowed her breaths. Hermione stood awkwardly beside the socialite trying to think of something to do. "Here, let me conjure you a chair, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Oh, thank you! I appreciate the gesture. I should have known better than to go rushing up to you but, alas, pregnancy brain has made me spontaneous." She pointed at the top of her head and rolled her eyes back in annoyance. Astoria sat down once the chair appeared and after a minute and twenty-six seconds of trying to collect herself she swiveled her body towards Hermione.

"Again, sorry I just came bounding out of nowhere but I was hoping you might be free for lunch later today? Draco and I were wanting to discuss Narcissa's care; and since Lucius is busy at the ministry Draco offered to relieve his father from Narcissa duties for the time being."

Hermione blinked her shock away. "I honestly don't know what my schedule is today. Why don't we go to my office? It's just around the corner." Hermione offered her sweaty arm to assist Astoria with transferring off the chair, and Astoria graciously took it. "Thanks! I've noticed it's so much harder to move around now that I have this little guy growing in me."

Hermione smiled awkwardly. She really didn't know Astoria and therefore didn't feel comfortable making small talk, but she entertained her anyway. "How far along are you?

"36 weeks and three days…I'm so ready to have this baby!" Astoria confessed in a rush. "My first and second trimesters were walks in the park compared my third. I feel as though my hips are going to come undone any moment. My back is hurting, my boobs are so huge…well that's the only plus I have right now. My boobs have never looked better." Astoria laughed as she adjusted them unabashedly. Hermione unsuccessfully stifled a smile then turned towards to door; wand in hand she muttered a spell to unlock her door.

Hermione's office was modern and sleek. Her concrete shiny floors allowed Astoria's low heels to echo with each step. Her white walls were littered with framed anatomically drawn pictures of hearts, brains, muscles, and bony structures. Her desk stood centrally in the far back side of the room. The white lacquered finish popped against the charcoal gray walls and the an S-designed bookcase stored her organized collections of books. Hermione summoned a black leather armchair behind Astoria once she reached Hermione's desk. Hermione sat across from Astoria and opened her laptop to look into today's schedule.

"I really like your office. This is way better than that other room we met in. This is sleek and modern while the other is just boring." Astoria commented as she read the titles sitting along the bookcase.

"Thank you. I didn't design it; I really wouldn't know what to do with it. All I wanted was a book case where I could access certain titles fairly quickly," she gestured towards her convenient within-arms-reach bookcase. "But the one thing I did request was this." She spun her chair around and faced the back wall where her credentials hung in black metal frames. With a flutter and swish of her wand the wall appeared to pixelate into bookcases that appeared to house thousands of books as they rotated like a rotisserie motor.

"Woah…"Astoria whispered with eyes bulging from their sockets as she contemplated the infinite amount of words being housed in these walls. "Have you read all these?"

"Yes, I tend to do a lot of reading. I read about half of these books in the last twelve years thou…," she felt herself clam up and smiled to hopefully deter the subject.

"You have been absent for so many years. So," Astoria leaned in closer and looked back towards the door to make sure it was they were secured in privacy. "Are the rumors true? You found an American billionaire and broke his heart the moment he found out that you once moonlighted as the head dominatrix at a Swedish brothel?"

Hermione felt it bubble in her chest and the next thing she knew she was laughing and crying at the same time.

" _Where did the billionaire love come from?"_ she thought as she tried to clear her throat from the giggles. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. I heard a similar story about myself only there wasn't a billionaire and I was a dominatrix in Amsterdam, I believe."

"So you were dominatrix?!" Astoria exclaimed impressed with Hermione's previous life choices. "I am not one to judge, Healer Granger, not to worry." Astoria assured.

"No! No, I was never a dominatrix. Not anywhere. I was a student in Scotland then transferred to America to finish my studies. And that's it. It's actually a very boring story. I recommend believing the dominatrix bit if that makes you like me more."

Astoria laughed, "I prefer to think of you as a studious, dedicated, boring student that has become a confident and competent woman in her field of study."

Hermione blushed slightly and smiled brightly at Astoria, "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Please, it's Astoria. Mrs. Malfoy is my mother-in-law. Speaking of mother-in-law, are you free for lunch after all?"

With a few clicks of her laptop Hermione and a quick call to her secretary, Hermione was able to schedule a lunch with Astoria and Malfoy at 1:30pm. They exchanged their goodbyes and Astoria took Hermione's Floo Network back to Malfoy Manor. She found herself thinking that she may be able to manage the Malfoys if someone like Astoria stays associated with them. She knew that it was wrong of her to believe that they remained cruel and bigoted, but that was all she knew before she left London. It was still hard to comprehend the change in their status with wizarding society.

Suddenly her cell phone rang and she picked it up without bothering to look at who was calling.

"Hello?"

"Hey…Hermione? Ummm, just wanted to see what you were up to," Dawson stammered as he cleared his throat to continue. "I honestly didn't think you were going to answer and I was hoping to leave a message."

She smiled and thought back on the feeling of his warm hands on her. "So if I hadn't answered then what would you have done?"

"I wouldn't have left a message," he confessed.

"What?! How rude of you," Hermione laughed. She blindly swept her wand across the air and the shelves began to rotate. "If it was important I would hope that you would leave a message. Was it not important then?"

"Heh…well, yes I guess you can say it's important. Really I just wanted to say that I had a great time with you last night," he smiled through his teeth and he chuckled the last of his statement, "And I am looking forward to seeing you later."

Hermione's grin reached from ear to ear and she felt her heart flutter with the thoughts of being near him again. "I enjoyed myself with you, too. I'll call you when I'm leaving here."

She clicked her phone to hang up and simultaneously gestured her wand to desist the rotating bookshelves. She summoned a large paperbound book and silently returned her wall back to its original form. The book flipped through pages in the air and once it found the correct selection it settled onto Hermione's desk. She sat back down at her desk and suddenly shot straight up from her chair when she realized she still had perspiration on her person. Thankful that she requested a private restroom and shower with scrubs, Hermione made her way to the restroom to rinse off her daily workout.

She turned on her taps and adjusted the water to hot but not scorching. She undressed and unraveled her hair from the messy bun she constructed prior to her run. She retrieved her tooth brush and tooth paste in the drawers and began to brush her teeth, rushing to the beat the steam from fogging up her mirror. She turned her head slightly and stopped brushing when an inconspicuous red marking along her collarbone made itself known in the mirror. She stared at it a little longer after she finished cleaning her mouth out.

" _Is that a hickey?!"_ she thought incredulously. She never had one before and was shocked to discover herself sporting one at the age of thirty. She smiled sheepishly at her marking and began to think intently on the meaning into this particular hickey.

" _Is he marking me as his? Should I feel violated? Is it wrong that I feel giddy? What the hell is going on with me?"_ Dismissing her thoughts she made her way towards the now steaming shower and proceeded with getting the day started with.

Several hours later Hermione found herself exhausted and somewhat accomplished after the events that transpired today. She required Narcissa to perform the labs and physical examination this morning and certain explanations took longer than others but it was smooth sailing all together. It wasn't until Narcissa was required to give blood that the process came to a halt. Hermione assumed there would be some kind of hesitance but she didn't' think she would encounter a total blockade.

"How necessary is this truly, Healer Granger? Wouldn't a diagnosis be conceivable if you just take those see-through photographs of me and felt me up? I mean isn't that invasive enough?" Narcissa pleaded as Will held back his tourniquet and needles. He stared at Hermione and willed her to do something quick. She nodded in response, assuring Will that she would intervene. She knelt beside the worried witch and attempted her best bedside manner voice.

"You are a strong woman, Mrs. Malfoy. And I wish that I were able to complete a thorough diagnostics without spilling a drop of blood, but sadly wizard nor muggle efforts can afford us that luxury. It is imperative that I receive a sample of your arterial and venous blood in order to acquire a precise intervention that will enable you to have a long normal life with your family."

Narcissa eyed both Hermione and Will warily until finally succumbing to Hermione's requests. "I'll do it for you, Healer Granger. But he only gets one chance." She gestured to Will aggressively.

Will smirked and maintained eye contact with the Malfoy matriarch as he simultaneously tied the tourniquet right below her biceps. Without turning away he was able to palpate Narcissa's veins, gently apply the needle into her skin, and retrieve a bright red stain into the syringe before placing the test tube to collect the specimen. "Impressed yet?" Will questioned confidently as he filled another vial with blood.

"You still have to poke me one more time. Then we'll talk." Narcissa retorted as he removed the tourniquet from her arm.

Hermione conjured up an examination table and requested Narcissa make her way once Will was finished. Hermione performed a physical exam and talked with Narcissa about her family's medical history. Once she felt everything she collected all the information she needed from her, Hermione offered to escort Narcissa back to her room. The journey was quiet and tense. She didn't know what to say to Narcissa and was relieved to find that Narcissa did not find it necessary to talk either. It wasn't until they reached Narcissa's room that Hermione finally spoke up.

"Mrs. Malfoy, if you ever need me I would want you to know that I will make myself available to you anytime. You can alert me by tapping your wand three times against your wrist and say 'Healer Granger'. Once your band glows lime green then you know that the alert has been sent. It then turns blue when I acknowledge the alert."

Narcissa tested out her newest means of communication and nodded approvingly when she witnessed Hermione's wand tip glow a neon light to signify Narcissa's alert. "Thank you for this, Healer Granger." Narcissa's smooth features faltered for a moment and returned to an air of indifference. "I can only imagine how awkward it is for you to work with my family and me. I know we were not the most welcoming of people when it came to your admittance into the wizarding world."

Hermione ducked her head down and closed her eyes in anticipation of what Narcissa Malfoy could possibly say about the past that she doesn't already know…or want to acknowledge. Her mind began to formulate negative scenarios and she braced herself for the worst until she felt a soft squeeze of her elbow. She looked up and found Narcissa offering her a covert genial smile. "I am sorry for any trouble we caused you and your family. And I need you to know that you are a bright and courageous witch. I wouldn't trust anyone else to attempt these types of procedures on me. I know I am in great hands."

Hermione's cheeks flushed as she her entire being fluttered with pride and modesty. _"Here is the Malfoy matriarch thanking me for work that consists of applying muggle technology towards her health care,"_ she thought unbelievingly as she perseverated on Narcissa's words of praise.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I don't know what to say. But really, thank you for those kind words and for the opportunity to help you live a better life. I truly believe that we will be able to find a way to get you back to how you used to be." Hermione smiled sheepishly as she rubbed the area Narcissa had touched her.

"Of course, Healer Granger. I would expect no less. Have a good day." And with that Narcissa's chair turned away and left a flabbergasted Hermione standing in an empty doorway. She stood there a minute or two longer and contemplated the events that just passed. She felt elated with Narcissa's attitude towards not only the treatment but towards her, as well. She never sought for people's approval and Hermione was proud to say she marched to the beat of her own drum, so to speak. However, she couldn't help but celebrate a tiny bit at the fact that former pure-blood sympathizers are now looking towards a Mudblood to help them save a loved one's life. Building rapport with patients was always a struggle for Hermione and knowing that she was getting through to the matriarch was very rewarding in itself. With a skip to her step, she returned to her office and began to prepare her documentation. She whispered an incantation and her wand glowed lavender, an indication that it was now acting as a voice recorder.

"Healer Hermione Granger reporting on patient #M52384-7662."

"Chief complaint: shortness of breath."

"PCP: Healer Hope."

"History of Present Illness: 55 year old female admitted with SOB and edema to bilateral lower extremities. Her symptoms began five years ago and she has had recurrent episodes that have increased in frequency. This year alone she has had 4 hospitalizations that resulted in discharges home with elixirs to manage the symptoms. Her dosages have increased over the years and she is now only symptom free because of elixirs including charms. Chest X-ray is unremarkable and flu was negative. Today patient reports no nausea, vomiting, dizziness, or chest pain. On presentation patient is on room air with decreased breath sounds throughout."

"Additional medical history: gravida 1, para 1. Additional surgical history: none. Additional family history: noncontributory. Alcohol use: social drinker with 1-2 drinks every other month. Drug use: denies recreational use. Smoking status: never smoker."

"Review of systems: 14 point ROS negative other than noted above. Physical exam Date/time: 6/24 0835. Vital signs: BP: 124/64, MAP: 86,. Pulse ox: 98, O2 delivery: room air, Temp: 98.7, Pulse: 104, RR: 16."

"General Appearance: alert, awake, and oriented. Head/Eyes: atraumatic, extra ocular movements intact(EOMI), pupils equal, round, reactive to light and accommodation(PERRLA). ENT: moist, mucosal membranes, normal nose, normal sinus. Neck: full range of motion, nontender, no JVD. Cardiovascular: regular rate & rhythm, normal heart sounds, BP/pulses equal bilaterally. Respiratory: on room air, decreased breath sounds, minimal shortness of breath. Abdomen/GI: active bowel sounds, soft, non-tender. Genitourinary: no bladder distention, no flank pain. Extremities: moves all, 1+ edema to bilateral lower extremities (charms noted to hide the edema to bilateral lower extremities), normal capillary refill. Musculoskeletal: full range of motion, normal inspection, no CVA tenderness. Neuro/CNS: alert, oriented X3, normal speech. Skin: dry, intact, no gross abnormalities. Lymphatic: no lymphadenopathy, neck normal. Psychiatry: normal affect, normal judgement/insight, normal mood."

"Radiology recent impressions: Findings consistent with congestive heart failure with bilateral pleural effusions. Diagnosis, Assessment, and Plan: volume overload, suspected CHF exacerbation- systolic versus diastolic. X-ray concerning for CHF with bilateral pleural effusions. Plan: Strict I&Os, daily weight, trend BNP. Fluid/salt restrictions. Echo ordered. Advance care planning: code status discussed with son. It is noted that patient would not want spouse to determine patient's plan of care. The patient's son is MPOA. Patient is full code."

She muttered a spell and her wand ceased to glow just as a timer went off to signal her appointment of lunch with Astoria and Malfoy. She placed her wand back inside her robes and walked towards the restroom to freshen up. She applied a little blush to her pale cheeks and curled her lashes to widen her eyes. She glided a light smear of tinted chap stick over her lips, tossed her hair into a passable messy bun, and looked over herself. She practiced her body language to convey confidence and poise however one look into her eyes screamed anxiety and apprehension. She knew nothing strange was going to happen. The Malfoys turned over a new leaf; plus they were meeting in a public venue.

" _Nothing should go wrong,"_ she repeated to herself as she was completing her touchups. She leaned into both arms as she brought her face closer to the mirror. She forced her determination and will to stare out through the mirror as she spoke.

"You can do this. You have proven to yourself time and time again that there is nothing too big that you can't handle. Everything will be fine. Plus Astoria will be there so that makes the interaction a little more bearable. You got this, Granger." Ending with that she headed towards her chimney and walked confidently into it after clearly yelling, "Diagon Alley."

Hermione made her way to a quaint French restaurant called _C'est Bon_. She greeted the hostess at the front and noted her eyeing her up and down with an incredulous look, taking in Hermione's Healer robes. "Welcome to C'est Bon. How can I be of service to you?"

She forced a smile on her face as she took notice of the hostess' lack of sincerity. "I'm meeting Draco and Astoria Malfoy. They're expecting me; my name is Hermione Granger."

Instantly the hostess' eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she stared in wonder at the infamous Hermione Granger. "Uh-wa…Ms. Granger. It is truly an honor to meet you and it'll be my pleasure to escort you to your party." She bowed down humbly and Hermione held back a snicker. "My name is Lei and I'll be your hostess for this evening. Please follow me this way. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy are expecting you."

Hermione was led towards a table with a window that was charmed to display the Eiffel tower in Paris real-time. It was Draco who took notice of Hermione first; he gestured her way to alert Astoria of her presence. Once she reached the table Draco's chivalry obligated him to stand while the hostess pulled out Hermione's chair to allow her to sit. Once made comfortable and her drink order taken she smiled and looked expectantly at the couple before her.

"Healer Granger, thank you again for meeting us in such short notice. I know you are a busy woman so Draco and I will make sure not to waste much of your time." Astoria smiled brightly and warmly as she affectionately rubbed up and down Draco's arm.

"Astoria, please this is not a waste of time. My patient's and their family's concerns are a priority," Hermione reassured. "I can only imagine how unsure you are with the whole muggle treatment process so don't hesitate to contact me when you feel necessary. I just finished assuring Mrs. Malfoy of the same conditions."

"Thank you, Healer Granger. Again, we do appreciate everything you are doing for my mother and we know that you will do wonderful things with your muggle interventions." Draco replied as he looked intently towards the healer, secretly daring for her to contradict his statement.

Not wanting to be the rude party Hermione just smiled and murmured her, "Thank you." The waiter eventually returned to drop off their drinks and take their lunch order. The rest of the lunch consisted of discussing CT scans, MRIs, complete blood counts, and a brief anatomy and physiology of the cardiopulmonary system while they dined.

"I had no idea the human body could be so extensive," Astoria exclaimed in awe as she leaned lazily against her chair rubbing her belly slowly and affectionately. "I mean I knew I had a heart but I was oblivious to the necessity required of it to perform optimally. And to be honest I assumed it was Narcissa's lungs that were giving her the problem since she complained about her breathing. Wow!" Astoria's eyes glazed over for a minute before she turned her attention back towards Hermione and started firing off questions. "How did you manage to learn all this? Did it happen when you were gone? Where did y-OW!" Astoria yelped in surprise as she instantly grabbed at her forearm and stared daggers at Draco. Hermione bit back a chuckle and was about to answer Astoria's questions until Draco spoke up.

"Please forgive my fiancée, Healer Granger. We typically respect other people's privacy. It's rude of us to just intrude in your personal affairs and I apologize on her behalf." He finally turned away from Astoria and met Hermione's dubious gaze. His gray eyes bore into hers and he arched his brow, expectant of her to refute his apology.

Hermione sensed the tension buildup as they continued to stare at one another, her dumbfounded and he expectantly, as the silence prolonged. Seconds passed until she quickly composed herself with a cough and shake of her head.

"There's no need to apologize. I'd be happy to answer any questions you have on my education. I went to a couple of muggle universities for several years in order for me to learn all this. The medical field offers different specialties and a physician chooses what to specialize in. I chose the heart or cardiology, which is the study of the heart and its actions and diseases," Hermione could feel a heat rush through her as that same organ she was discussing pounded against her chest. She loved her profession and always spoke passionately about it. Blushing at her zealous nature on this particular subject, she looked down at her hands and smiled sheepishly.

"It's just a fascinating muscle. It's unique and full of unbelievable intricacies. After spending hours upon hours of studying the structure and function of it I developed this indescribable urge to acquire the skills to manipulate it and control it." She finally looked up and noted Astoria looking at her with a quirked up eyebrow and a wide smirk. Malfoy on the other hand stared at her inquisitively, as though he couldn't quite place her in his thoughts.

"You were gone for about twelve years," Astoria stated, it wasn't a question. "Did you stay in Europe or travel abroad? I always tell Draco we should travel more and not just necessarily when it comes to his career. He works with the Department of Magical Games and Sports by supplying jersey's and other customized equipment to our national leagues. We tend to travel quite frequently but we hardly have time for each other's company. Yes we attend the games and take in the city but he's always on that muggle contraption that incessantly tings. He's either talking to this person or that person about missing equipment or just pressing random buttons; his fingers dancing over his buttons in a frenzy." Astoria rolled her eyes and side eyed her husband playfully as she nudged him in the ribs.

"You use a cellphone?" Hermione blurted. She stared at him curiously and he answered with the corner of his lip lifting slightly as he pulled out a sleek silver Apple iPhone 4.

"I charmed it so that it levitates about 5 inches off the ground if I drop it. Also the screen has a type of modified Protego charm that makes it shatter and break resistant plus there is a privacy screen for thos nosy neighbors."

Hermione nodded approvingly and pulled out her own matching iPhone 4. "I have a number you can reach me at if owl post, fire talking, or the Floo network are not enough to get a hold of me. And honestly I feel more comfortable using this since I've been primarily communicating with it for the past eleven years." Grinning she looked at her phone and cradled it in her hands affectionately. "It's almost an extension to my body. Without it I'd be lost," she confessed in a half joking half serious manner.

Draco turned to Astoria and nodded his agreeance. "You see, Astoria. She gets it."

She rolled her eyes at her fiance's response and gestured towards the waiter for their ticket. "You won't catch me with one of those things. I think they're hideous and unnecessary. But to each their own."

"Agree to disagree," Draco replied as he reached for the check. He placed several galleons and gestured for the waiter to keep it all. He then looked at Astoria with brows furrowed. Hermione could sense they were communicating nonverbally it seemed and felt like a third wheel. She was about to clear her throat and state her goodbyes until Astoria's nod gave Draco the sign to turn and address her.

"Healer Granger, thank you again for taking time out of your day to indulge us." Astoria then reached out for Draco's hand and Hermione glanced down just in time to notice her squeeze it gently, as though to reassure him of his intentions. She looked back at the wizard and saw an internal struggle within him. He fidgeted for a second or two and didn't meet her gaze. "To be honest…I was nervous about our meeting. I know the type of person I was back at school and I-I want to apologize for how cruel I was to you all those times. It was unnecessary and uncalled for and I hope to show you that I am no longer that idiotic coward."

Hermione glanced down to where Astoria and Draco were holding hands and noticed her soothingly draw rhythmic circles around his palm. She stayed fixated on those movement because she didn't dare look at him. People had told her that he was different and that he had changed, but a little voice in the back of her mind piped a different tune. _"Draco Malfoy doesn't apologize to Mudbloods,"_ she thought bitterly as a stony gaze reached her eyes when she finally looked up at him with indifference. He still didn't meet her stare and she was about to contradict his statement when he finally spoke and laced her with instant guilt the moment he finished speaking.

"I know asking for your forgiveness is farfetched and I will respect your choice on this matter, regardless of the outcome. However, I do appreciate your civility and your professionalism when it comes to treating my mother and addressing my family and I. Thank you because without you," his gaze finally reached her and he stared intently, gray shimmering orbs imploring her to give him this opportunity. "My mother wouldn't stand a chance."

Hermione gulped down her horrible thoughts and looked up at Astoria first. She returned a warm smile as her deep blue eyes pleaded along with her husband. Hermione nodded in reassurance and turned back to stare at her fidgeting digits. She couldn't look at Draco Malfoy and get this out what she was about to say simultaneously.

"I have to admit I was very apprehensive about this meeting, as well. But I'm glad it happened. It needed to happen. I heard that the Malfoy name was synonymous with philanthropy and it was a shock, at first." She felt Draco's stare and hurried her next statement before she lost her courage. "We never had any interactions where we were civil with one another when we were children. And, to be honest, I didn't know what to expect when I realized I would be trying out this new innovative treatment approach on a family I assumed hated my very existence." Sensing a rebuttal, she lifted her hand to stop Draco the moment he opened his mouth. "However, I'm glad I am able to acknowledge that I was wrong in my assumptions." Several seconds passed while the weight of Hermione's words sank in. She knew they were not exact words stating her forgiveness, but she knew how much her truths conveyed. She then looked at Astoria and reached out for her hand. She never was a touchy feely individual but she hoped that her gesture would offer the peace of mind this couple obviously needed.

"I promise to be there for you ALL whenever you need me." She then turned to catch the disbelieving stare of the wizard before her and offered him a timid but friendly smile. "I'll just be a phone call away."

* * *

*I've had this chapter finished for several months but I'd always find something to tweak and revise. I'm not entirely happy with it but I figured to let it go and just post it. As always I am open to constructive criticism and would love to be compensated in the form of reviews. Thanks for reading and I hope you're enjoying this story thus far.*-A


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